Johanna Potter and the Marauder's Map
by RandomFandom5
Summary: What if Harry Potter had a sister? Well, meet Johanna Lily Potter. She's best friends with the Weasley twins. This just kinda popped into my head and I couldn't get it out. This mostly just introduces you to Johanna and her personality. Don't worry, there'll be a whole series and it's better than it sounds!
1. Prologue&In Which I Get A Big Surprise

Johanna Potter and the Marauder's Map Prologue: In Which I Introduce Myself

I barely even have any idea why I'm doing this.

I guess I just want you Harry Potter fans, the ones who are so loyal to my little brother's series that you are actually crazy enough to read a book written by Harry Potter's _sister_ to know _my _side of the story, not just Harry's. Allow me to introduce myself. Johanna L. Potter (L. stands for Lily). I don't have a huge fanbase like Harry, my brother, does. Heck, I mostly just tag along to his heroic adventures. And try to help him escape the interviews which he loves oh so much (that was a joke, to you Percy types who wouldn't recognize a joke if it danced naked in front of you wearing Dobby's tea cozy). But it's not fame I want.

I want—ah, but I shouldn't say, as it would be a spoiler for both Deathly Hallows and this wacko series. I did that on purpose, so you would wanna keep reading. MWAHAHAHAHAAA! Oh, and the tea cozy thing is from Goblet of Fire. It wasn't my idea. Enjoy!

Chapter One: In Which I Get A Big Surprise

The year was 1979, the month was November, the date was the 11th, the day was Thursday, and the time was 8:09. I was only 2 years, 1 month, 4 weeks, 1 day, 8 hours, and 9 minutes old, exactly. I had just woken up, and gone into the kitchen to find my father sitting at the little round table eating a bowl of cereal. "Hi Daddy," I said in my tiny little 2-year-old voice. "Where's Mummy?" "Mummy's going potty, Anna-Banana," explained Dad, scooping me up and plopping me down on his knee. Just then, Mum came into the kitchen with her right hand on her stomach, a weird Muggle gadget that looked like a fat white stick in her left hand, and a huge smile on her face. "James," she said, and held up the stick. I peered at it and saw that there was a tiny little screen on it, and that the tiny little screen had a tiny little plus sign. Of course, I was 2, so I had no clue what a plus sign was. Whatever it was, it seemed to be making my parents very happy indeed. "Oh, Lily..." Dad breathed, round hazel eyes (that were just like mine) shining. "What's that?" I demanded. They turned to me.

"Johanna," said Mum, brushing a strand of wavy dark-red hair (that was just like mine) out of her face, "it's called a pregnancy test, and it means you're gonna have a little brother or sister!" My eyes widened. Then I opened my mouth and squealed, jumping up and down with joy. The cat, Panther, raised her shiny black head and blinked her yellow eyes sleepily, awakened by me screaming my tiny head off. "I'M GONNA BE A BIG SISTER!" I shrieked. Scratch that, it's what I_ meant _to shriek, but it just sounded like, "IGOBIABISDDERRRRR!" That day was one of my earliest best days. Dad and Mum left for work (they were Aurors), and Sirius came to baby-sit me for the day. That was how it worked back then. Mum, Dad, and Sirius were all Aurors. They went by twos, Mum and Dad some days, Dad and Sirius other days, and Mum and Sirius other days. I liked it when Sirius came. I liked him a lot. He called me "Prongs-ette." I thought that was absolutely hilarious, for some reason. Sirius and I couldn't stop talking about the baby. We chattered on about names, whether it was going to be a boy or a girl, and what the "special club" Sirius and my parents were in would think (the "special club" was the OotP, if you didn't know). "And what if it's a boy?" Sirius inquired. We had gone on about girls' names for a long time. I thought for a minute. "Daddy?" I suggested. Sirius laughed for 5 minutes after that. Being 2, I had no idea what was so funny.

I tried again."Joe?"

"Urgh."

"Billy?" "Yuck. How about 'Sirius?'" I giggled. "Sirius!"

He grinned. "What about Jack?"

"Nahh."

"Robert?"

"No way."

"Harry?"

"Yeah!"

"You're serious?"

"Nope,_ you_ are. I'm Johanna."

Sirius laughed. "You know what I mean."

We just sat there laughing for a while, until we heard the telltale _crack_, which meant that Mum and Dad were home. As we went into the kitchen to greet them, I spoke again. "You know, I _do_ like Harry..."

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 8 months, 2 weeks, 4 days, 18 hours, and 36 minutes had passed since the day I found out about the baby. I was now 3 years, 10 months, 2 weeks, 3 days, 18 hours, and 36 minutes old, exactly. The baby was a boy. He was going to be named Harry James. I was so happy that they actually liked the name I suggested. It was the 30th of July, 6:36 P.M. It was an absolutely flawless summer evening. We were sitting in the soft green grass of our backyard, listening to the crickets chirping and feeling the cool breeze on our skin. We were completely silent, letting summer do the talking.

Then suddenly, Mum pulled a pained face. "What's wrong Mummy?" I asked.

She ignored me, instead turning to Dad. "James," she whispered quaveringly. "I-I think it's time." Dad's eyes widened. "Time for _what_?" I wanted to know. Dad turned toward me. "Time to g-g-go have your little brother," he informed me just as shakily as Mum.

I was elated. "_Really?_" I breathed. I had been waiting for this for months. Well, we all had.

"Yes," Dad confirmed.

For a few seconds, I simply stood there. Then— "WOO-HOOOOOO!" I screeched, my shrill 3-year-old voice sounding like nails on a chalkboard.

Dad grinned. "Calm down, Anna, calm down," he laughed, scooping me up and plopping me down on his arm. He turned to Mum. "We need to get to St. Mungo's," he told her. He drew his wand. "_Expecto Patronum!_'"

A silver stag leapt from the tip of his wand, then turned its magnificent head to stare quizzically at its caster. "To Sirius Black," Dad murmured to it. "The baby's coming." The Patronus then trotted across the yard, around the side of the house, and out of sight.


	2. In Which The Boy Who Lived Is Born

Chapter Two: In Which The Boy Who Lived Is Born

Harry James Potter had arrived 15 minutes ago. 17 hours and 4 minutes had passed since we had been informed of the fact that the baby was coming. Huh. That sounded oddly formal. Anyway, Sirius and I were headed down the busy Muggle street toward an ugly-looking department store with 2 signs. One read "Purge & Dowse Ltd." The other bore the words "Closed for Refurbishment." Of course, I didn't know that then, because I didn't learn how to read until I was 5 years old. But we'll get to that later. We arrived at the window of this strange place. I watched as Sirius walked, nonchalant as you please, up to it and whispered to an ugly, chipped dummy modeling a hideous dress, "We're here to visit Lily Potter."

I was mildly curious, as you can probably imagine, watching my godfather informing an inanimate object that we had come to see my mother. Amazingly, the dummy beckoned us in, and Sirius took my elbow and instructed me to step through the window with him on the count of three. "One...two...three!" We took a big step forward through the glass. I felt a sensation like cool water passing over me. When we came out in the lobby, how-ever, there was not a drop of water on me. Sirius and I walked through the waiting room. _Weird,_ I thought as we joined the queue. _Everyone here looks different from me and Sirius._ And different they did look. There was a man near the middle of the queue whose head was twisted all the way around. And directly in front of us was a young woman and a small boy who seemed to be attached with a Permanent Sticking Charm. I gave a small giggle. Luckily, they couldn't hear me. Five minutes later, we arrived at the front of the queue. There was a desk that towered two feet above my 3-year-old head. For that reason, I could not see the pretty brunette lady that was seated behind it. Unfor-tunately, Sirius could, and he tried to flirt with her, wasting two minutes. Only when I shrieked, "HURRY UP!" (I was what some might call obnoxious...still am, actually) did he get a move on.

Five minutes after _that,_ we arrived outside the Melanie Cryper ward. Sirius turned to look at me. "Are you ready to meet your little brother?" He asked me. I nodded solemnly. He turned back toward the door, grasped the handle, and opened it.

The first thing I noticed when I walked into the room was that everything was white. I wrinkled up my freckled nose. I didn't like the colour white when I was little. I thought it was too plain and blank. I liked bright colours, like my favorite one, yellow.

The second thing I noticed was...

"MUMMYYYYYYY!" I scampered across the room to the side of the bed and flung my arms around her neck. She smiled wearily.

"Hey Anna," she said, patting my shoulder. She turned her head to look at Sirius while I hugged Dad around the waist. He tousled my hair. "Now," he said. "Would you like to see baby Harry?"

"UH-HUH," I agreed very loudly. I tend to be loud sometimes. Scratch that, I tend to be loud a lot of the time. Dad walked across the room to a little cabinet on wheels with a blue pile of blankets on top. He picked up the blankets and walked back across the room.

I peered inside the blankets. There was a tuft of jet-black inside. I pushed aside a piece of the blanket. And I saw him. He was the most precious little thing, even sweeter-looking than Panther when she was a kitten. The jet-black tuft was the little hair that he had. He had almond-shaped eyes, just like Mum's. Well, they were blue, like all babies', but I knew they would eventually turn jade green. He had sweet little chubby cheeks and a tiny nose. It was love at first sight.

I smiled up at Dad. "He's so sweet." I never really had a speech-impedimenty voice when I was a little kid.

Dad grinned. "We think so too."

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Half an hour later, Dad and I were heading up the front walk of our house. I had attempted to count the bricks of that front walk many times, but I never succeeded, seeing as I could not count past twenty. We walked up the front steps and into the house.

You could easily call number sixteen, Rose Lane, Godric's Hollow a cottage. There wasn't much to show in our house, but hey, it was home. The living room had two squishy chintz armchairs that were fun to jump on (but not as much fun as Mum and Dad's bed) and a couch that was small, but bigger than a love seat. It was soft and walls were off-white. The carpet was thick and crimson.

I announced that I was going to be with Huggy and walked outside through the back door.

A key component of my childhood spent at Godric's Hollow was that there was a tall young apple tree in the backyard. As far as I was concerned, that tree was the best of my five friends (it, Mum, Dad, Sirius, and now Harry). It was my confidant and teacher. How can a tree be a teacher, you ask? Well, it taught me how to climb, of course. It also, along with Mum, taught me to count. Well, they taught how to count as best they could. I named my tree friend Huggy because I kept hugging him all the time...I just called a tree "him."

I scrambled up Huggy and tightrope-walked out to the middle of a high, thick branch. I liked this branch because, if I walked all the way out to the end of it, I got to a bedroom window. And that bedroom window was mine. This meant that, if I couldn't sleep, I could get up, open my window, tightrope-walk acroos the branch, shinny down the tree, walk out to the middle of the grass, lie down, and fall asleep out there. Or, if I wanted to get a midnight snack wqithout waking Mum and Dad, I could climb out the window, down the tree, across the lawn, in through the back door and voila! Into the kitchen. Or I could just pick an apple through my window. So, all in all, Huggy was a pretty good friend.

As were all the others.


	3. In Which We Join A Secret Club

Chapter Three: In Which We Join A Secret Club

Hey, guys, Johanna here with the update. Sorry about the wait, RandomFandom was in summer camp. Oh, and she told me to tell you that she doesn't own Harry Potter.

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1 month, 1 week, 4 days, 15 hours, and 11 minutes had passed since Harry's birthday. It was the 11th of September, 4:18 PM. Oh, and did I mention I would be turning 3 on the next day, the 12th? I was in the living room playing with Harry at that moment, when there was a _crack_ from the kitchen. I got up to see who had come over.

Sirius looked over at me. "Hey, Anna-Banana!" he said, tousling my hair and grinning. "We were just wondering if you and Harry wanted to come to the secret club meeting tonight!"

My face lit up. "_Really?_" I breathed. I had always wondered what went on at secret club meetings. And now, I could find out! 2 hours and 8 minutes later, we arrived in the middle of some very tall grass. I looked up and wondered why I had called the grass tall. In front of me was the tallest building I had ever seen. It looked crooked-ish, and the wooden boards it was constructed of looked close to falling off. It looked like a house to me, but it was vertical. It was the strangest house I had ever seen, but something about it was strangely inviting. A lopsided sign in front of it read—

"The Burrow," announced Sirius, grinning. We walked through the grass and into the door.

We were greeted by _a lot_ of people. Definitely more than twenty. I was vaguely alarmed at the sight of this crowd. I wasn't shy around my five friends, but I was around other people. But that was about to change. Why, you ask? Well I'm glad you asked. I was about to meet someone that, had I not met, my life would been greatly different. And I met them in a very strange fashion. How, you ask? Well I'm glad you asked. Your question will be answered momentarily.

"Why don't you and Harry go in the living room?" suggested Mum. "It's where the other kids are."

Other kids? Now I was _really _alarmed. You see, adults I could at least _handle._Other kids, on the other hand, I completely lost my head around. I took a deep breath."Okay," I said, keeping my voice as steady as I could. I turned and walked toward the door to the living room.

This is the key part of this know how I said earlier that your question would be answered momentarily? Well, your wish has been granted, my at that moment, I could hear voices behind the door.

"Sssshhh!" one voice was hissing. "I hear someone!" That particular voice sounded like a boy about my age.

"You better hope it isn't Mum," another, older voice warned. This one was a boy too, about 10.

"Anyway, even if it isn't Mum, you shouldn't do it," Another boy's voice was saying sharply. This boy was about 5.

"Aw, c'mon, Percy,"said yet another boy's voice. This one was second-to-oldest. "Let's just see what happens."

"Thanks Charlie," said the original voice brightly.

Now extremely curious, I grasped the doorknob and started to turn it.

"Sssshhh!" whispered the original voice. "The person's opening the door!"

I couldn't take it anymore.I pushed the door wide, and—

"AAAAAAARRRRRRRGHHHHHHH!" I shrieked.

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" squealed Harry.

For when we had opened the door, a barrage of color had flown at us and soaked us to the bone—water balloons.

I heard a whoop of laughter. Turning my head, I saw 2 boys standing in the corner, rolling on the ground with mirth.

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. Why wasn't I yelling at them?

Why, because I thought it was a good prank.

I couldn't deny it, not even to myself. And that's why, far from being angry at the two boys, I laughed. They looked up in surprise. That was when I saw the thing that intrigued me about them.

I had never seen twins before. So, naturally, I was quite weirded out when I saw two boys that looked exactly the same. And when I say exactly the same, I mean _exactly _the they saw the look of confusion on my face, they grinned mischievously at me. Apparently they thought it was funny that I was confused.

Are these twins sounding familiar yet?

"Who are you?" asked Second-To-Oldest Voice.

"Johanna Potter," I replied, wringing out my hair. "Who are _you_?"

"I'm Charlie Weasley," said the boy. "These are my brothers, Bill, Percy, Fred, George, and Ron."

Bill was Oldest Voice, Percy was Sharp Voice, Fred and George were The Water Balloon Twins, and Ron was Baby-In-The-Corner-That-I-Forgot-To-Mention. Oh, and Neville was Other-Baby-In-The-Corner-That-I-Forgot-To-Mention.

I had started to become friends with the Weasleys within the hour. Well, _most _of them, anyway. Sharp Voice (a.k.a. Percy) didn't even _try _to make friends. Not that I tried to that much, either. He was just the kind of person that I don't like. He was bossy even at 5. How that's possible, I don't know, but if "no breathing" was a rule, that idiotic jerk would follow it.

I really liked the rest of them. I guess they liked me too. We talked a lot.

About 2 hours later, Mum came in and said it was time for Harry, Mum, Dad, and I to leave.

"Aw, _Mummy!_" I whined. "Can't we just stay a _little _longer?"

Mum laughed a little. "Making friends, huh?"

I nodded. She smiled. "Well, we have to go home sometime."

I waved to the Weasleys. They waved back. I took my mother's hand and she scooped up Harry with her other hand.

I smiled to myself. To some people, I had just tagged along to an Order meeting. But to me, I had made my first non-family friends.

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*glares threateningly* If you don't review, I will have no choice but to hurt you. Aw man, RandomFandom says no threatening the readers? Darn...


	4. In Which We Are The Kids Who Lived

Chapter Four: In Which I Learn The Word Marauder And We Are The Kids Who Lived

1 year, 1 month, 21 days, 7 hours, and 18 minutes had passed since that fateful Order meeting. I was 4 years, 1 month, 20 days, 7 hours, and 18 minutes old as I screeched, "HAPPY HALLOWEEN!" upon entering the kitchen.

Mum looked up from her mug of tea and smiled. "Happy Halloween to you too, Anna-Banana."

I grinned and yelped, "BOO!"

Mum laughed. "Your dad likes Halloween too."

"Someone say my name?" grinned Dad as he too entered the kitchen.

"What on earth are you wearing?" snorted Mum.

For Dad was wearing a gray, ragged, hooded cloak over his Muggle clothes.

"It's my Halloween costume," he explained. "I'm a dementor." He flailed his arms. "Woooooooooo!"

Mum snorted again. " You know, dementors don't usually wear round glasses..." she smirked.

Dad stuck his tongue out at her good-naturedly and bent down to kiss her. I faked gagging as she gasped dramatically.

"I have been kissed by a dementor!"

Dad snickered. "What are _you _going as, anyway?" he asked her.

"I'm going to be a werewolf!" She threw back her head. "Awooooooooo!"

"Awooooooooo!" repeated little Harry, who had just toddled into the kitchen. He had learned to walk a few days before he turned 1, and he was very good at it by now.

Mum grinned. "You would make a nice full moon, wouldn't you, honey?" she said, kissing Harry's neck.

About half an hour later, Harry, Dad, and I were sitting in the living room. Suddenly something randomly occurred to me that I had been wondering for weeks.

"Daddy, what's a marauder?" I asked. He looked up.

"What?"

"What's a marauder?"

He just stared at me for a moment. Then, slowly, a mischievous (you know, I'll be using that word a lot in this series) smile crossed his face.

"Well..." he said. "A marauder is someone who causes trouble."

"What kind of trouble?" I demanded.

"Just general trouble," he explained. "You know, like pranks and stuff."

"Oh." I was silent for a minute. "I like pranks. Do you think _I'm _a marauder?"

His smile widened. "Oh yeah," he said happily. "I think you would make a _great _Marauder."

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It was now 8:12 at night. Dad was entertaining Harry and me by making coloured lights come out of his wand. We shrieked and clapped whenever he made more.

Mum came in, her hair in her face slightly. "James," she said, scooping up Harry. "I think it's time to get the kids to bed."

"Awwwwwww!" I said as Dad flopped back on the couch. "But I don't _wanna _go to bed, Mummy!"

And then we heard the door open.

Dad went to see who it was.

"Lily!*" he yelled, his voice laced with panic. "Take the kids and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!*"

Mum stiffened. She grabbed my hand and raced upstairs and into Harry's room.

I looked back. I could have sworn I felt a little breeze on my back...

The door to the bedroom exploded. I screamed.

In walked a nightmare. A nightmare called Lord Voldemort.

He was tall, and thin, and his face was deathly-white, and his nose was unnaturally flat, and his eyes were red with vertical pupils.

Mum dropped Harry into the crib, whirled around to face Voldemort, and threw her head back and out-stretched her arms. I pressed myself farther into the corner and screamed again, eyes bulging, shivering in spasms of terror.

"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!*" she begged.

"Stand aside, you silly girl...stand aside, now,*" snarled Voldemort.

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead—*"

I screamed, if possible, ever louder, and shook my head frantically. I may have been 4, but I knew what dying meant. And I didn't want my mother to die.

"This is my last warning—*" hissed Voldemort.

"Not the kids! Please...have mercy...have mercy...not the kids! Please—I'll do anything—*"

"Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!*"

He waved his wand. I was momentarily blinded by green light, but I saw Mum's silhouette crumple and hit the floor.

"NO!" I howled. "No, Mummy, no..."

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" roared Voldemort, pointing the wand in my face. I flung myself back into the corner, facing the wall and shielding the back of my head, but I still felt a breeze shooting toward me. I braced myself for my imminent end, but it didn't come. Instead, the stream of brilliant green bounced off of my neck, off my brother's forehead, and hit Voldemort instead. He didn't die, he...kind of spontaneously combusted, as did our house. He was a stormcloud, a snake, and a newborn baby all in one.

I felt a horrible sensation. Some invisible thing was pushing itself against me, encircling me, suffocating me, making its way inside me through my mouth and my nose and my eyes, forcing me to swallow it, allow its entry into my body...

And then this thing, whatever you would call it, _whoosh_ed away into the night.

I looked over into our yard. Huggy, my best friend, my special place, was a mouldering, charred stump. This was what really set me off. I sat down in the corner, wrapped my arms around my legs, buried my face in my knees, and began to cry as the world erupted all around me.

*Quote from _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows,_ Chapter 17, Bathilda's Secret, page 344


	5. In Which Harry Gets The Fame

Chapter Five: In Which Harry Gets The Fame, But Not The Fortune

I waited there, in the remains of Harry's bedroom, with Harry and our mother's body. I just waited there, curled in a corner, sobbing, until I heard a _vroom, vroom._

"Oh my _God!_" I looked up with my bloodshot hazel eyes to find Sirius running through the wreckage of our house toward us, away from his magic motorcycle.

"What _happened_?" implored Sirius, eyes wide in shock and horror. He looked down at his feet and gasped.

"Oh, _Lily..." _he choked when he saw Mum's limp, broken body. He knelt down next to her and looked up from me to Harry.

"A scary man came!" I told him tearfully. "He killed Mummy and Daddy and went _boom._"

"He went _boom_?_" _asked Sirius.

I nodded. "He tried to kill us too, but it didn't work." I pushed my hair back to reveal my neck. "He got me here.

Sirius stared at me. "Is that why you have that scar?"

Now it was my turn to stare. "_What_ scar?"

"The one that's shaped like a lightning bolt," explained Sirius. He pointed to Harry. "Like Harry's got on his forehead."

I got up and walked over to where Harry was sitting in his crib, still crying weakly. I peered at his forehead. Sure enough, there was a thin red scar, shaped like a bolt of lightning.

I looked back at Sirius. "So I have one too?" I asked in a small voice.

He nodded. "Right on your neck."

"Do you have a mirror?" I inquired.

Sirius pointed his wand at the ground. "_Agua-menti!" _A stream of clear water shot out of the wandtip and onto the ground.

"You can look at your reflection in that," he told me, pointing to the puddle.

I walked over and looked down into the puddle. I saw, at the base of my neck, the lightning scar. I kind of liked it. It looked cool, the red standing out against my skin, cutting jaggedly into my flesh.

Which isn't to say that my scar made anything about this situation better.

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About an hour and a half later, I was skidding a-long a dark road on Sirius's motorcycle. I saw two figures, a man and a woman.

The man turned. When the moonlight illuminated his face, I saw that he was very old. He had purple robes, long silver hair, a matching beard, and half-moon glasses. I stared at him in fascination. He smiled at me.

I looked over and saw the woman. She had glasses too, and looked very stern. She had black hair in a bun and wore long emerald robes.

The man turned to Hagrid. "Hagrid,*" he said. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?*"

"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir,*" replied Hagrid (who I knew from multiple Order meetings). "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got them, sir.*"

_So the man is Professor Dumbledore, _I thought wonderingly. I wondered briefly what a professor was as I slid off the motorcycle after Hagrid, who had just climbed off. The bottoms of my blue Converse hit the deep black bumps of the pavement with a satisfying _slap_. Then I was brought back to the here and now —well, _there_ and _then, _I should say—when Professor Dumbledore spoke again.

"No problems, were there?*"

"No, sir—house was almost destroyed, but I got 'em out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. He fell asleep just as we was flyin' over Bristol.*"

Professor Dumbledore and the woman stooped down over my brother.

The woman stared at his forehead. "Is that where—?*" she breathed.

I wasn't listening to Dumbledore's response. _Yes, _I thought. _It is where._ Where an evil man—no, not man, _thing, _tried to kill him. My hand leapt to the base of my neck, where I knew I had a scar that matched the one on Harry's forehead. I fingered the black ribbon around my neck that my mother had given me for my 3rd birthday. I still have it, 16 years later.

Hagrid wailed loudly. The woman shushed him.

"S-s-sorry,*" he sniffed. "But I c-c-can't stand it—Lily an' James dead—an' poor little Harry off ter live with Muggles—*"

My eyes widened. Hagrid had only said Harry was off to live with Muggles, not me too. _You can't! _I thought desperately. _You can't split us up! He's the only family I've got now! _I didn't spare a thought for the loveless aunt and uncle that I had never once met, sleeping peacefully inside the adjacent house, neither knowing nor caring that our parents were dead.

My panicked thoughts were on the tip of my tongue, but Dumbledore had already lain Harry down on the front step.

Hagrid bid us goodbye and zoomed off on Sirius's motorcycle. This struck me as odd. Since I wasn't going to live with Harry, I had thought I would go with Hagrid to live with Sirius. Apparently I wasn't, because Hagrid had left without me.

I turned to Professor McGonagall, who was now the only person left on the street. "Where am I going?" I asked in a small voice.

"You are coming with me," she answered. She took me by the hand and led me a few feet down Privet Drive, away from number four. She held my arm tightly and turned on the spot.

I felt a compressing sensation not unlike the one I had felt in Harry's bedroom after Voldemort "died." I felt I was about to suffocate when—_pop!_ I found myself in tall grass outside a large, vertical, wooden house.

A very familiar large, vertical, wooden house...

"The Burrow!" I blurted out.

Professor McGonagall turned to me. "You have been here before?"

I nodded. "For secret club meetings."

She stared at me for a moment, then conjured a sleeping bag on the ground. "You will sleep there," she told me. "Arthur and Molly Weasley will know why you are here."

She turned, walked a few feet away, twisted on the spot, and vanished.

I crawled into the sleeping bag and was asleep within minutes, not knowing what I would do in that house, and not knowing that I would do it all with my future best friends, who were in that house, fast asleep like me.

*Quote taken from _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, _Chapter 1, The Boy Who Lived, pages 14, 15, and 16


	6. In Which We Have A Little Fun

Chapter Six: In Which We Have A Little Fun

Hey guys, Johanna here with the update! I know the chapter's a bit short, but read and review (hint, hint) anyway. Oh yeah, and RandomFandom has a question for you: does she own HP? She says if you answered no, then you are correct. Enjoy!

"Is she ever gonna wake up?"

"We'll have to find out."

"You guys, _don't _wake her up..."

"Why not?"

"Just_ don't._ Don't, don't, don't, DON'T!"

"Percy, you don't have to throw a fit."

"But they're _gonna _wake her _up._"

"Why shouldn't—"

"—we wake—"

"—her up?"

"She might—"

"—sleep forever—"

"—if we don't."

"She won't sleep forever, you two. Just don't—"

"We're gonna wake her up."

"You guys..."

"Three..."

"Cut it out!"

"Two..."

"Don't do it!"

"ONE!"

"AAAARRRRRRRGH!"

It was me who had yelled. The twins had woken me up by kicking me. A lot. I whacked one of them (to be honest, I don't know which one) on the arm in retali-ation.

"OW!" screeched the twin I had hit. The other twin giggled. Twin #1 hit Twin #2 for laughing at him.

"OW!" screeched Twin #2. Twin #1 laughed. So did I. Twin #2 ran at Twin #1, but tripped over my legs. I stood up and stepped on his back. He screeched again and Twin #1 and I laughed again. Twin #1, how-ever, tripped over Twin #2 and they both ended up on the ground.

Still laughing, I bent over to help them up, but when Twin #1 grabbed my hand, he yanked me down. In the end, all three of us were tangled in a heap on the ground, laughing our throats raw. Whenever I fought with Fred and George, we always ended up laughing hysterically.

Bill, Charlie, Percy, and Ron were all staring at us. Bill and Charlie looked amused, Percy disapproving, and Ron fascinated.

"Thassa gur-gur," said Ron in his little one-year-old voice.

"Ron, we've been through this a million times, it's _girl, _not _gur-gur,_" said Bill, rolling his eyes.

"And also," piped up Charlie. "Why are you here?"

My stomach turned over. The bubble was bursted. My parents were dead, and Harry lived with our Mug-gle aunt and uncle, who couldn't even remember their own nephew's name.

Finally, I replied in a small voice, "My parents got blown up."

The Weasleys stared at me for a moment. Then—

"MUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMYYYYYYYYY!" shrieked Percy as if a million Death Eaters were after him.

The twins jumped so violently their heads banged to-gether.

"Merlin's beard, Percy!" said Bill. "Don't_ do _that!"

At that moment, the door of the Burrow opened with a _crash, _and a woman ran into the yard.

"Percy did that," said Charlie, rolling his eyes. "We're fine. Although," he said suddenly. "_She _doesn't seem to be fine."

He jerked his head at me. I could feel my nose turning red. It was years before I could get Fred and George to stop calling me Rudolph.

The woman looked at me. She was short and plump with reddish-brown hair and a kindly face.

"She, er..." began Bill. He glanced uncertainly at Ron and the twins. "Perhaps we should talk over there," he said, pointing his thumb to a spot around the corner from us.

As Bill and Charlie explained to their mother, Ron, the twins, and I were left alone together. There was a very awkward pause.

"GUR-GUR," said Ron.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A very bad day later, I was sharing a room with the twins. They stared at me a lot. I stared back.

As I was walking over to the bed Mrs. Weasley had conjured up, I heard footsteps behind me. I turned around. One of the twins had stepped towards me. I stared at him. He took another step forward, then 2, 3, and 4. Then, he slowly reached forward and poked me on the arm.

"Hey!" I squeaked. I poked him back. Then the other twin poked me too, and before too long it was a full-on poking war.

After Mrs. Weasley had scolded us for being up too late, we were lying in bed, wide awake. Then, slowly, Fred reached over and poked me. I smiled.

And that's how the twins and I went from friends to best friends.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

After a few days at the Burrow, I began to get used to calling it home. Everyone was really nice to me. Well, _almost _everyone. Percy refused to talk to me for unknown reasons. Like he thought I was going to infect him or something. We pranked him a lot. Dad and Sirius taught me a lot of good pranks. For example...

"Hey, PERCY!"

He turned around. "_What?_"

"I can pin a glass of water to the wall!"

Percy rolled his blue eyes. "You can-_not_."

"Can too! I'll prove it."

He raised his eyebrows. "Suuuuure."

I grinned widely at him and pranced off to get the materials required for our latest prank.

Five minutes later, I was fake-concentrating on hold-ing the glass steady. Then I "accidentally" dropped the pin.

"Could you pick that up?" I asked very sweetly. Percy gave me a strange look, then bent over to pick it up.

_So gullible,_ I thought, laughing inwardly. I tilted the glass and dumped the water on his head.

"AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" he shrieked.

"OOPS!" I screeched, and I ran off laughing hysterically.

After I had been scolded by Mrs. Weasley, we heard a tap-tap-tapping on the window.

"Mail call!" yelled Bill, entering the room and opening the window to let in an exhausted Errol with the mail.

"Mum, here's a letter from some woman called Andromeda Tonks...a note rejecting the idiotic comic strip Charlie sent to the _Daily Prophet_...some bloke claiming to be selling happiness—"

He stopped abruptly. Slowly, his hand trembling, he held up a letter. In green ink, it read:

Mr. W. Weasley

The Room On The Second Floor

The Burrow

Ottery St. Catchpole

"IT'S FINALLY HERE!" he shouted at the top of his voice. "I'M GOING TO HOGWARTS!

Well, RandomFandom says no threatening the readers to review, so I'll just bribe you instead, hmm? Brownies to reviewers!


	7. In Which We Come To An Agreement

Chapter Seven: In Which We Come To An Agreement And Stick To It

The clock on the nightstand by my bed in the twins' room read 5:42 when I woke up the next morning. I stretched and yawned, then slid out of bed onto the floor.

It was the day we were going to go to Diagon Alley for Bill's school supplies. The twins and I were excited out of our skulls, for we'd never been to Diagon Alley before.

3 hours and 29 minutes later, we had piled into a turquoise Ford Anglia, which somehow managed to ea-sily accomodate 9-and-a-half people (Mrs. Weasley was pregnant as of 3 days ago). We were on our way to Di-agon Alley, or as Fred and George and I liked to call it, "Di Al."

"Let's see..." muttered Mr. Weasley. "Ah, here we are, Charing Cross!"

He parked the car outside a record store which had a pub next to it with a sign that read, "The Leaky Cauldron." The crowd was completely ignoring it.

"They can't see it, can they?" inquired Percy. Mr. Weasley shook his head.

"Why not?" asked Fred.

"They're Muggles," explained Mr. Weasley. "Only wizards can see it. If Muggles could see it, they would be going in."

"Oh," said George.

We walked into the Leaky Cauldron and on to a dingy little back room with a brick wall. Mr. Weasley took out his wand and tapped a brick on the wall. It folded back to reveal the alley.

I gaped in wonder. It was the most amazing thing I had ever seen. Shop windows proudly displayed their products. I looked around. Telescopes, cauldrons, barr-els full of eel eyeballs were showing. I couldn't help but give a little squeak of pure amazement and delight.

"Cool!" squawked Charlie, standing in front of a window a little ways down. "The Nimbus Nineteen Ninety-One!"

Fred, George, and I hurried down to catch up with him. We gasped in unison. There, right through a thin sheet of glass, were broomsticks. Shiny, new, with freshly polished wooden handles and trimmed tails. I had possessed a toy broomstick when I lived in Godric's Hollow, but it got blown to twigs when Mum and Dad kicked the bucket. I longed for a brand-new one like the ones on display.

"Hey!"

It was Ron. He seemed to be very excited about something, for he was grinning ear to ear and grabbing me by the hand. "Lookit, lookit!" he squeaked. He dragged me forward, toward another shop farther down.

"It's so COOL!" he shrieked, stopping and turning to face the window.

"Easy, Ron," said Charlie, who was trailing along behind us. "It's only Gambol and Japes..."

I was about to ask what Gambol and Japes was...but then I saw it. The twins and I gasped again. To me, it was like all the fun in the world smushed into one window. It was a joke shop.

Fireworks zoomed around the interior. We couldn't take it anymore. We ran inside.

It was heaven. Everywhere I turned, there was another ridiculously cool thing. I twirled and howled with joy. Pink, purple, orange, red, yellow...I tripped and fell, but picked myself up and kept running...pop, zing, boom...I darted around throngs of people...

"OOF!"

I had crashed into Fred.

"Watch where you're going!" I squealed.

"_You_ watch where you're going!"

I rolled over on the ground and tried to hit him. My hand just flailed twins laughed at me.

About 3 minutes later, the Weasleys came and got us. We spent the rest of the day in Diagon Alley, shopping for new robes, schoolbooks, and a wand for Bill. Oh, the rest of Di Al was fun, don't get me wrong, but the thing is, the joke shop was special.

Later that day, after we got back from shopping, the twins and I were sitting in our room. We were all still thinking about Gambol and Japes. At one point we all looked up at each other. We reached a silent agreement. We could talk to other people about the fact that we liked the joke shop, but not how much we liked it. We wouldn't talk about how completely free we felt, or how being there gave us an overwhelming urgre to run, twirl, scream, forget everything in the world except us and the booming fireworks.

But, even though we agreed not to tell anyone about this, we silently agreed something else, too. We'd never forget it. We accepted that we'd always feel this way about the bright flashes of pink, purple, orange, red and yellow.

We agreed, without saying a word, that someday, _we'd_ make those booming fireworks, those flashes of colour, those things that made little kids just like us shriek, whoop, and laugh.

We understood that we all wanted to do the same thing with this, giddy, wild feeling.

We wanted to create those feelings ourselves.

We wanted to open a joke shop


	8. In Which A New Story Starts

Chapter Eight: In Which A New Story Starts

It was Friday, August 22, 1989. I was 11 years, 11 months, 1 week, 5 days, 5 hours, and 58 minutes old as I stood by the window in the dark with the twins, waiting for the mail.

"C'mon...c'mon...c'mon..." I muttered to myself. We were waiting for the mail at 6:00 in the morning because it was the day Hogwarts letters came. We knew Errol would be at least an hour late with the mail, but we wanted to be extra-sure we didn't miss him.

We heard a loud snore. We turned around. George had fallen asleep. Fred and I immediately started kicking him.

"OW!" he protested. We giggled.

And then we heard a noise...the telltale "tap-tap-tap."

"No..." I whispered without turning around. Slowly the three of us turned around and looked at the window. It was Errol. Fred walked forward, opened the window, and grabbed the mail. Out of his hands fell three letters. I grabbed one. It read:

Miss J. Potter

The Room That She Shares With The Twins

The Burrow

Ottery St. Catchpole

We looked at each other for a moment, then cheered in unison. We scampered out of the kitchen, up the stairs, and into Percy's bedroom.

"WE'RE GOING TO HOGWARTS!" we screeched. 13-year-old Percy squealed like a little girl and tried to push us off his bed, but we dove on top of him, yelling "Get-up-get-up-get-up-get-up" until he bellowed "FINE!" and succeeded in pushing us off the bed. We howled with laughter, then picked ourselves up off the floor and ran up the stairs and into Ron's room.

When we got there, he was rubbing sleep out of his eyes. "Whahappened?" he said blearily.

"WE'RE GOING TO HOGWARTS!" we howled again.

"Aww..." whined the 9-year-old.

"Aww.." echoed a voice from the doorway. It was Ginny. She was wearing a lavender nightdress, match-ing bunny slippers, and a pouty lip. We grinned at each other. The two youngest kids in the Weasley family had wanted to go to Hogwarts since they first heard of it. We slid off the bed onto the floor and scampered outside to pester Percy a little more.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

1 week, 3 days, 8 hours, and 16 minutes later, we were in our room, frantically throwing stuff in our trunks.

"I can't believe we're actually going!" I called over my shoulder to the twins.

"I know!" Fred replied. "I wonder what it'll be like..."

"Maybe there'll be fire-breathing monkeys—" began George.

"Who are powered by Dungbombs—" continued Fred.

"And barf fireworks?" I concluded. I'm a little obsessed with barfing and fireworks. Also, I can finish their sentences too.

"Yeah!" we chorused. We burst out laughing.

Percy walked into the room. "Go away," George advised.

"We will be leaving in a few minutes' time," he said pompously. "Mother sent me to inform you."

"Tell 'Mother'," said Fred, using quotation marks around the word. "That we're coming."

"Are you done?" I said. "Now go away, Rat-Boy."

We had called him Rat-Boy since his first year at Hogwarts, when he had gotten his rat, Scabbers. Scabbers didn't do anything _at all._ He was the most boring animal on the face of the planet. We had even tried to turn him yellow once to make him more interesting. Alas, it did not work. We didn't understand why Percy loved him like he did. Maybe it was just a pet thing. I suppose it was.

Anyway, we left a few minutes later. Fred, George, and I were too excited even to speak. We were going to Hogwarts. Such a simple sentence, but with so much meaning. We were going to Hogwarts. We were going to ride the Hogwarts Express at last. We were going to stand in a line with the other first years. We were going to sit up in front of the whole school and have the hat shout out where we belonged.

And that brought me to thinking about the subject that it is impossible for a soon-to-be first year _not _to think about.

What House was I going to be in?

What House did I _want _to be in?

I imagined myself at Hogwarts, in front of everyone. I was doing whatever you needed to do to get Sorted. I heard some voice yelling the name of a house. But which house? I concentrated hard. And then I heard, clear as anything...

"GRYFFINDOR!"

I smiled. _Yes,_ I thought._ Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!_

Of course, I wanted to be in Gryffindor. They were the best ever! _But what if I'm not put there? Will Hufflepuff be okay? What about Ravenclaw? Or—_

My blood turned to ice.

_What if I'm put in Slytherin?_

I felt sick at that horrible thought. I wondered if I would be able to make any real friends at all. I wondered if I would even survive if I was put in Slimerin, as we called it (Slimerin, Di Al—we had nicknames for everything). _If I'm put in Slimerin,_ I decided. _I'll kill myself._ Of course, I didn't mean that literally. It was just something to keep in mind if things got too horrible.

_But,_ I told myself._ I'll always have Fred and George to lean on. Sure, they'll tease me about it, but they won't stop being my friends._

And I left it at that.

*hypnotic voice* Reeeeevieeeeew...reeeeevieeeew...*is handed a note from authoress* She never lets me do anything...


	9. In Which George Takes Longer Than Fred

Chapter Nine: In Which Charlie's Friend Isn't Called Nymphadora And George Takes Longer With The Sorting Hat

Hiya there! It's me, Johanna, the girl you've been reading about for the past eight chapters! RaFa don't be ownin' nuthin'!

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PLATFORM NINE AND THREE-QUARTERS

HOGWARTS EXPRESS

MISS J. POTTER

I stared at the small parchment rectangle in my hand. I was holding my train ticket. Somehow, that made it even more real than when I had gotten my admission letter. You know? Like when your mum has been pregnant for nine months, and she tells you the baby's coming, that makes it certain that the whole thing wasn't just a dream, and if someone pinched you, it would actually hurt. Holding that ticket in my hand made me certain that it wasn't a dream. What also made it real was looking up and seeing the plastic numbers nine and ten on either side of an apparently solid barrier, and knowing that I would be running through it and not coming back out until June.

"You okay, Anna?"

Fred's whispered inquiry shook me from my reverie. I took a deep breath and nodded, not looking away from the barrier. "Yeah," I replied.

"Me too," he whispered.

"Then what are we waiting for?" I muttered excitedly. I wanted to cry. We were finally going to run through that barrier.

"Charlie, you first."

Mrs. Weasley had directed Charlie through the barrier. Percy went next. Then finally—

"Fred, George, Johanna, you next."

Of course I beat the twins through the barrier. George came next. Fred toppled through last. We laughed at him. We took every oppurtunity we got to laugh at each other. We took every oppurtunity we got to laugh in general.

The large clock read 10:56. The rest of the Weasleys had all run through. I leaned down to hug Ron.

"Charlie! Oi, CHARLIE!"

We turned. A grinning girl was waving energetically. I surveyed her. Her hair was royal blue, straight, and shoulder-length. Her eyes were large and the exact same colour as her hair.

She started to scamper over, but before she could reach us, she tripped over her own shoelace and fell over. Charlie laughed at her. She glared at him.

"Laugh at me again, Weasley. I dare you," she growled.

"Oh no problem..._Nymphadora_._"_

Within seconds, the girl was on her feet and her wand-tip was pointed between Charlie's eyes.

"Don't—call—me—Nymphadora," she snarled. At that moment, a very strange thing happened. Her hair turned tomato-red.

She turned and saw us. "Oh hi," she said cheerfully. "I'm not Nymphadora. I'm Tonks."

"Tonks?" said George. "That's your _name?_"

"Well, technically, it's my last name," she replied, rolling her large eyes. "But seeing as my mum oh-so-wisely named me Nymphadora, I'm Tonks."

I grinned widely. "Hi Tonks," I said. "I'm Johanna, and this is Fred and George. What's with the hair?"

She smiled. "Noticed, huh?" she said. "I'm a Metamorphmagus."

"Meta-what-now?" said a confused Fred.

"Metamorphmagus. I can change my appearance at will. See?" She screwed up her face. Her hair turned olive green, then lavender, then bubble-gum-pink.

"_Cool!_" we said in unison.

The clock chimed 11:00. We whirled around and ran. And we didn't turn back. We leapt on the train just before it started moving. We leaned out the windows and waved furiously to Mrs. Weasley, Ron, and Ginny.

"Don't forget to write!" Mrs. Weasley was yelling.

"Tell us if the chocolate eclairs are any good!" hollered Ron.

"Convince them to let first years on the Quidditch team!" Ginny screamed.

"We'll try!" we bellowed back. They chased the train until it turned a corner and they disappeared from sight.

There was no turning back.

We were on our way to Hogwarts.

"C'mon," said George. "Let's find a compartment."

We wandered down the aisle, craning our heads for a not-full compartment. Finally, we found one. Its only occupant was a girl with her head resting against the window.

"Is anyone sitting here?" I asked her. She looked up.

"No," she said. We walked in and sat down.

"Who're you?" she asked.

"I'm Johanna Potter," I told her. "And this is Fred and George Weasley."

"I'm Angelina Johnson," she informed us. "I don't know _squat _about magic. I'm Muggleborn. By the way, what's Quidditch? I'm assuming it's a sport..."

Fred, George, and I exchanged looks. We would definitely have something to keep us talking...

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We made fast friends with Angelina. She instantly understood Quidditch and we all started ranting about how unfair it was that first years weren't allowed to have their own brooms.

Then, just after the trolley came and we were munching on chocolate frogs and Bertie Bott's (my favourite), she told us about her home life. That's when we _really _started to have things in common.

"My dad's a really successful businessman," she told us gloomily. "I've been to his office before. It's _awful._ Every stupid cubicle is exactly the same.

"He wants me to work in a boring cubicle all day like _he _does. But I don't _want _to. I just want to make prank items for a living. You know, like a joke shop."

She looked up to find us staring at her. "Why are you _looking _at me like that?" she demanded.

"Joke shop?" the three of us breathed at the same time. I practically felt my eyes turn into stars.

"_We _want to open a joke shop," said Fred.

"You look like you _really _want to," remarked Angelina.

"We _do,_" the three of us said eagerly.

"Tell me," she said. "Do you three_ always _do that?"

We looked at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing.

We spent almost the entire rest of the journey blabbing on about prank items and how awesome Di Al is. Also gagging on Every Flavour Beans.

"Look!" said Angelina suddenly, pointing out the window.

We looked. There it was; Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in all its glory.

"It's _beautiful,_" I sighed.

"We'd better get in our robes," said Angelina, not looking away from the castle.

About ten minutes later, the train pulled into the station. We got up and walked down the aisle and off the train.

"Whoa," said George lightly.

"Whoa is right," I agreed.

There, under the night sky, was the silhouette of the castle, across a huge lake that reflected the stars. There wasn't one thing in the whole world that was more beautiful to me.

"Firs' years!" called out a voice by the lake. "C'mon, now, firs' years, over here!"

"HAGRID!" I yelled. He turned. I waved. His huge face broke into a grin.

"Johanna!" he cried. We made our way over to him.

"I 'aven't seen yeh since yeh were four years old!" he said, beaming.

"Yeah, great to see you, Hagrid!" I beamed back.

He gestured to a boat.

"Well, what're yeh waitin' for? Hop in!"

We obliged. George tried to literally hop in. He fell in the lake. We laughed at him.

The boats started moving toward Hogwarts. _This is it,_ I thought._ We're actually, really going!_

We reached the castle. Hagrid got out of his boat, walked up to the huge oak front doors, and knocked three times.

The doors opened. A woman with black hair in a tight bun was standing there.

_Professor McGonagall!_ I thought excitedly.

"Thank you, Hagrid, I'll take them from here," she said to Hagrid.

We followed her into the entrance hall. She turned around to face us.

"Welcome to Hogwarts,*" she said to us. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be like your family. The four houses are called Gryffindor—*"

Fred, George, and I stood up a little straighter.

"—Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin.*"

We glanced at each other, then at Angelina. She, being Muggleborn, didn't know about how bad Slytherin was, and we hadn't told her.

_It's not like she'll be Sorted into Slytherin anyway, _I tried to console myself as we made our way into the Great Hall. The ceiling looked like the night sky. _She's Muggleborn. There aren't any Muggleborn Slytherins, are there?_

We reached the front of the hall in an untidy, cramped line. I was squished between Fred and a small girl with dark, mostly-straight-but-a-little-bit-wavy hair in a short ponytail, unnaturally large dark brown eyes, a navy blue beret perched at an angle on her head, and, oddly, bare feet.

I noticed a three-legged stool with a raggedy old hat on it.

_Huh,_ I thought.

A huge rip near the middle opened wide and burst into song.

_So you've come to Hogwarts,_

_ Of witchcraft and wizardry,_

_ Now you must let me tell you,_

_ Where you truly ought to be._

_ If you are courageous and temperamental,_

_ And chivalrous as well,_

_ Then Gryffindor, of red and gold,_

_ Is where you will excel._

_ If you are fair and kind and just,_

_ And stick up for what is right,_

_ Then Hufflepuff, yellow and black,_

_ Is where you shall spend your nights._

_ Now, all of you bookworms who spend your time,_

_ Applying your mind to the task,_

_ Then Ravenclaw, of blue and bronze,_

_ Is where all your questions you'll ask._

_ Last but not least, those with ambition,_

_ And cunning in your hearts,_

_ Then Slytherin, green and silver,_

_ Is what will set you apart._

_ It is time for me to Sort you,_

_ Come now, don't be shy,_

_ Place me carefully on your head, _

_ And give the Sorting a try._

The rest of the students burst into applause. McGonagall unrolled a scroll of parchment.

"When I call your name," she told us. "You will come up and sit down on the stool. I will place the hat on your head and it will call out the house it has chosen for you.

"Almwood, Joseph!"

A dark-haired boy trotted up. He sat there with the hat for a minute. Then—

"RAVENCLAW!"

He scuttled over to the table in between Slytherin and Hufflepuff.

"Avalon, Ivy!"

A girl with long, straight, dark blond hair got up. She too was proclaimed a Ravenclaw.

"Biskerley, Alexander!"

A blond boy came up to the stool. He took longer.

"SLYTHERIN!"

He marched off to the table at the far right.

"Bostman, Hazel!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Carl, David!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

I zoned out for a while. I talked in whispers to the dark-haired girl. She seemed nice, if a little shy. Well, a lot shy.

"DuCrall, Charlotte!"

"That's me," she murmured. She made her way up to the stool slowly. She sat on it for at least a minute. Finally, the hat called—

"SLYTHERIN!"

My eyes widened. She seemed so nice!

I fell back into my stupor until—

"Johnson, Angelina!"

I bit my lip and crossed my fingers.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Her face broke into a wide grin. The twins and and I screamed and clapped.

I started, yet again, to not pay attention.

"Potter, Johanna!"

"Good luck," whispered Fred and George.

Whispers were flying around the hall.

"Johanna Potter? _The _Johanna Potter?"

"The Girl Who Lived, _finally here!_"

I gulped as I sat carefully on the stool. The hat fell over my eyes and was only prevented from covering my whole head by my ridiculous sticky-outy ears.

_Ah, _said a voice in my head. _Miss Potter, come to Hogwarts. Now let me see, definitely a temper, brains, oh, not Hufflepuff, definitely not, perhaps Ravenclaw? Oh, a Parselmouth, I see, and ambition..._

_ Not that kind of ambition, _I pleaded. _Not Slytherin, please..._

_ Alright then, not Slytherin. My choice is clear. Fiery, bold, daring, you show all the characteristics of a_ GRYFFINDOR!

I wanted to pop with joy. I was a Gryffindor! Grinning ear to ear, I made my way to the Gryffindor table and took a seat between Angelina and Charlie. I looked over to the Hufflepuff table and saw Tonks, Charlie's friend from the train station, clapping and whistling for me.

I was a Gryffindor.

A little while passed. "Spinnet, Alicia," "Tabott, Lane," and "Towler, Kenneth" also got Sorted into Gryffindor.

"Valentine, Ariana"..."RAVENCLAW!"..."Venist, Ralph"..."SLYTHERIN!"..."Vincent, Megan"... "SLYTHERIN!"..."Weasley, Fred."

Angelina and I tensed up in our seats. _C'mon, c'mon, _I thought._ Please, please, say—_

"GRYFFINDOR!"

I cheered until I thought my throat would fall out.

"Weasley, George."

We tensed up again. Fred was actually rocking back and forth in his seat. I think he was trying, like me, to will the hat to say—

"GRYFFINDOR!"

We cheered our throats out again. George made his way over to our table, grinning exactly like his twin.

Fred pointed at him. "You took longer with the hat than me!" he screeched. "Which means..." he twisted around to point at me. "We aren't completely alike, _ha!" _

I rolled my eyes. I had always said that they were completely alike in every way. "Well, you _mostly _are," I muttered as "White, Verity" (the blond girl that had been standing next to Charlotte DuCrall) was Sorted into "HUFFLEPUFF!"

After "Yemarez, Taylor," ("RAVENCLAW!") McGonagall rolled up the parchment and carried the Sorting Hat out of the hall.

A man stood up. He had long silver hair and a matching beard. _Professor Dumbledore, _I realized with a jolt.

He smiled warmly at the assembled students. "To our newest students, welcome to Hogwarts. To those not-so-new students, welcome back to Hogwarts. Tuck in!"

Food magically appeared on the shining golden plates. Roast chicken, roast beef, pot roast, mashed potatoes, baked potatoes... it was like a mountain of every food I could think of, crammed onto one long table just for us. Of course, I, being nothing more than a 6-year-old kid trapped in an 11-going-on-12-year-old's body, simply said, "Mmmmm," and dug in along with my friends.

After pudding, which, for me, consisted of vanilla bean ice cream and orange Jell-O cubes (my favourite puddings), Professor Dumbledore stood up again. The other professors tapped their glasses with their forks. He smiled gratefully at them. "As usual," he said, a twinkle in his electric-blue eyes. "I have a few start-of-term notices. Firstly, the forest at the edge of the grounds is forbidden to all students."

"Forbidden Forest, eh?" I muttered to Fred and George. "Sounds _interesting,_ if you get my drift..." They smirked in reply.

"And now," Dumbledore was saying. "For the school song. Pick a tune and sing along."

He raised his wand and words shot out of them, which the school chanted/hollered/shrieked/in our case, opera-sang (Angelina rolled her eyes the entire time).

"_Hogwarts, Hogwarts, _

_ Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_

_ Teach us something please,_

_ Whether we are old and bald _

_ Or young with scabby knees,_

_ Our heads could do with filling,_

_ With some interesting stuff,_

_ For now they're bare and full of air,_

_ Dead flies and bits of fluff,_

_ So teach us things worth knowing,_

_ Bring back what we've forgot,_

_ Just do your best, we'll do the rest,_

_ And learn till our brains all rot.**"_

We all finished at different times. The twins and I finished last. Everyone stared at us. We grinned and waved.

"I have _never,_" I heard Percy saying to his neighbor. "Seen them in my life. Nope. Do _not_ know them."

"Hey, Perce!" I bellowed down the table. Percy winced. I smirked in a self-satisfied way.

The long benches were pushed back as all the students began to depart to their respective dormitories. We followed the Gryffindor prefects out of the hall up the marble staircase. We went through a lot of tapestries and whatnot. I was too sleepy to care. My companions and I kept yawning and rubbing our eyes.

We stopped at a painting of a fat lady in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she demanded.

"Whatchamacallit," replied one of the prefects simply. The Fat Lady swung forward and we crawled through a large hole that had previously been blocked off by the painting.

The common room was warm and homey, with a merrily dancing and crackling fire in the fireplace. The effect made me even more sleepy than I already was. Angelina yawned hugely beside me.

The prefect instructed the girls through the door on the left that directed us to a spiral staircase that led to the first-year girls' dormitory. We bid the twins good night (actually, we yawned them good night) and headed for the dormitory.

Once there, we quickly got into our pajamas. Our luggage rested beside our beds. I got into the bed with my trunk next to it. The blankets were warm and cozy. I smiled to myself.

I was where I belonged.

Where I belonged for now, at least.

*Quote taken from _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone,_ Chapter 7, The Sorting Hat, page 114

**Lyrics taken from _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone,_ Chapter 7, The Sorting Hat, page 128

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*whiny voice* Come ooooooon! Reviiiiiiewwwww! Waaahhhhh! RaFa aches for those reviews! Every time a reader doesn't review, a baby dolphin dies! *is pulled off by authoress* Aw MAN! Now I'm not even allowed to lie to them? Okay. Well, I'll just bribe you again. Reviewers get a box of WWW fireworks free of charge! And no, you don't get the fireworks if you flame! *glares*


	10. In Which We Get High

Chapter Ten: In Which Things Get High

Welcome back, my pretties! Our lovely authoress is to blame for the weeks of painful waiting for this chapter. Not me. I'M INNOCENT, I TELL YOU! INNOCENT! Uh...heh heh...*clears throat and continues sheepishly* She says she was on vacation, then she had camp, then she had to take a break, then more camp. Then the-what was that thing called? You know, the one that you're probably reading this on? Compactor or something of that nature. Yeah, that thing had the story on it and RandomFandom had to transfer it onto another one with a Hulk drive. *gets note from authoress* Apparently Bill dragged us to too many Muggle superhero movies when we were kids. I meant flash drive. I got confused because the Flash is a superhero. Yeah, she had to transfer the story with one of those things because her compactor is a million years old. *shakes head and mutters while leaving* Muggles make no sense...

RandomFandom: Why yes, pot, I'm looking exceptionally black for a kettle.

Johanna: Shut up.

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"Potter..._Potter...POTTER!_"

I woke with a jerk. The entire Transfiguration class was staring at me. I had fallen asleep about 5 minutes after I had turned my match into a needle with ease.

"I would _think,_" said McGonagall coldly. "That, after you had finished, you might be mature enough to help your neighbors with their matches—" she gestured to Fred's, which was smoking heavily, and Angelina's, which was purple for unknown reasons. "—rather than fall asleep."

"Yeah, well, we all guess wrong sometimes, don't we?" I responded cheekily before I could stop myself. I have very little self-control when it comes to that kind of thing.

McGonagall was unsurprisingly unamused. "Detention. My office. 6:00 tonight." She swept back up the aisle.

"You _better _not fall asleep in Snape's class," warned Angelina. "Or break even the _slightest_ rule. He favors the Slytherins. Except for Charli, of course."

"Bring it on," Fred, George, and I replied in unison.

Charli was Charlotte DuCrall from the Sorting. She was the only Muggleborn Slytherin in a _long _time. Snape and the other Slytherins didn't like her for that reason. I really don't get what's so bad about Muggleborns. I think they're really cool, actually.

We arrived in the dungeons. A couple of girls shuddered. We just rolled our eyes.

The door burst open and in strode Professor Snape. He was the most ugly person in the whole world, if you asked me. His greasy black hair did a weird swishy thing as he turned to face the class; I was surprised that the people in the front weren't sprayed with slime.

He started to take roll call. He stopped at my name. A sneer curled his lips. "Ah yes, Johanna Potter. Our new—_celebrity.*_"

I met his cold black gaze steadily until he looked away and continued to take roll.

"Potions is a relatively easy subject," he said to the room. "For those precious few students that know how to read instructions carefully. Many of you, however, do not have this basic common sense, and therefore will fail miserably at the simple art of Potions."

Snape smirked pointedly in our direction. I once again held his gaze until he looked away.

"Some of us pretend you have this knowledge, but do not."

He looked very obviously at Charli on the other side of the room. She opened her mouth furiously, as did we, but the girl she was seated next to, Amanda Quail, raised her eyebrows and Charli closed her mouth hurriedly. Snape smirked again.

The rest of the lesson was torturous. Snape kept shooting very badly disguised insults at us. At one point he started asking me ridiculously hard questions that I had equally ridiculous answers for ("What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" "It's obviously not a nose-reduction potion, or you would have taken it."). I think he does that in every single first-year class. I made an abysmal potion that, to Snape, meant I had "complete incompetence and an utterly short attention span." Alright, I admit the latter was actually correct, I did have the attention span of a butterfly, but he said it in this really, how do I put this, "Snape-ish" tone of voice that made me want to grab him and throttle him.

When it was _finally _time to leave for dinner, we all walked out of the dungeons with our blood boiling. Charli in particular was furious and miserable. Snape had taunted her just as much as he had taunted me, maybe even more. He said her potion was "typical of someone with your background." He had nearly even called her a...a you-know-what. You know, M-word.

"It's okay," Angelina reassured her as we entered the Great Hall. "Snape doesn't know what he's talking about."

"Yeah, that's right," I piped up, plopping down on the bench and pulling the bowl of mashed potatoes toward me. "He's just a big bag of vomit."

After Charli went back over to the Slytherin table, we spent the rest of dinner making up elaborate, grue-some death scenes for Snape. All of Fred's suggestions involved him being eaten alive by something. All of mine involved his butt in some way. The others could barely understand me, partly because I was talking so fast. You know how I said I didn't have a speech-impedimenty voice when I was a little kid? Well, I had an _extremely_ bad lisp from when I was 9 to when I was 13. I pronounced my s's like th's. I also said "i" like "uh." I sounded like Tweedy Bird.

We finished dinner and headed back to Gryffindor tower. We waved to Charli as she went down to the dungeons where the Slytherin dormitories were. We arrived at the Fat Lady.

"Password?"

I grinned. "Miscreant."

"How do you remember that?" inquired Angelina as we entered the common room.

"You're kidding, right?" replied George. "How do we remember 'miscreant?' We're the biggest miscreants in the world!"

"Look!" said Angelina suddenly. "On the notice board!"

We looked.

"FLYING LESSONS!" we screeched. For there, on the notice board, beside a Magical Menagerie ad, was the creamy red and gold parchment, stating that Madam Hooch, the Quidditch referee, would be holding flying lessons on Thursday, the 12th of September from 10:00 to 11:00.

"My birthday!" I said excitedly.

"You'll be 12 on the 12th!" exclaimed Fred like he had just made the world's greatest discovery. We laughed at him. Angelina had caught on well to our whole laughing-at-each-other thing.

"And best of all," George informed us. "It'll be with the Slytherins! We'll get to see Charli!"

"I think you mean the best and worst thing," count-ered Angelina. We hated all the Slytherins other than Charli. Well, what do you expect, we were _Gryffindors._

"Well," I said. "Looks like we've got our work cut out for us."

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When Thursday had finally come, we woke up early and went down to breakfast. Angelina was already at the Gryffindor table. She was sitting next to Lee Jordan, another one of our firends. They moved over to make a spot for us.

None of the five of us was able to shut up about Quidditch.

Angelina suddenly looked scared. "What if I'm no good at Quidditch because I'm Muggleborn?"

"Don't worry Angelina," consoled Alicia Spinnet, one of the two other Gryffindor first year girls. "You'll be fine, just fine."

Angelina snorted. "Easy for you to say. You've been playing Quidditch all your lives."

"BACON!" came another familiar voice, the second Gryffindor girl, Lane Tabott.

We grinned at each other. Lane would marry bacon if she could. She was even a little more tomboyish than me, and that's saying something. She flicked her long, straight white-blond hair over her shoulder and began to eat ravenously. We followed her example.

10:00 didn't come fast enough. Our first lesson of the day felt like it was hours long. The fact that it was History of Magic didn't help either. At long last, the bell started to clang and all of the students poured out of the classroom, down the hall, out the doors, and onto the sunny green grounds.

Madam Hooch marched out in front of us. "Hello," she said. "And welcome to your first flying lesson. Now, put your right hand over your broomstick and say, very loudly and clearly, 'up.'"

"Up," I said very loudly and clearly. My broomstick flew straight up into my hand, as did Fred's, George's and Angelina's. Charli's, however...

"_Up,_" she said firmly for the tenth time. "UP. _UP UP UP UP UP!_" The other Slytherins were laughing cruelly at her. She was turning red. This made them laugh more.

"That's enough," said Madam Hooch sharply. They shut up, but only because the teacher was glaring at them with her creepy hawk eyes.

She turned back to the rest of us. "Now, all of you kick off about three feet above the ground, hover for a minute, then touch back down, on my whistle. Ready? One, two, three!"

The whistle sounded. We all rose from the ground, hovered, and touched back down. I was a little annoyed that we were just _hovering. _I wanted to actually _fly. _Of course, Charli wasn't of this opinion. She looked really relieved that she was back on the ground.

Overall, the flying lesson was excruciatingly, painfully _normal. _I _hate _normal lessons. They're so _boring_ and _predictable. _I wished, as we wandered back to the castle, that something would happen, something cool, out of the ordinary.

Something that would make me go "wow!" or "I never knew I could do that!"

Well, it turned out that was just what was going to happen to us in a few days.

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Review. Or else I will cause you pain so unimaginable to your tiny brains that you will explode and your intestines will start coming out through your-

RandomFandom: Okay, that's it! I'm doing the review thingies from now on! *turns to reader* Sorry about her. She's nuts. The war just ended, she may be suffering PTSD. *thinks about it for a second* Nah, she's just nuts. Anyway, review please! i wont updat untel i get fiv godd rovows! Sorry, had to do a Tara impression. There was literally no avoiding it. I would have died had I not done that. Anyway, review. You know you want to.

*Quote taken from _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone,_ Chapter 8, The Potions Master


	11. In Which We Solemnly Swear

Chapter Eleven: In Which We Solemnly Swear That We Are Up To No Good

'Allo, 'allo! Here's the update-y updatingness you have obviously been craving! Enjoy the update of update in update land! Uh...sorry, I got a little carried away there. Enjoy!

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"I'm _boooooored_,"whined Fred.

"Me _toooooooo_," whined George.

"Me _threeeeeee_," I whined.

"Me _fooooour_," whined Angelina.

"Me _fiiiiiiiive_," whined Lee.

As you can probably tell, we were bored, bored, extra bored on the side, lightly drizzled with bored sauce. We didn't have any place to be, we sure as Hufflepuff weren't gonna do homework, and we didn't know anything about the castle, so we couldn't even find our way around!

"We could go exploring," suggested Lee.

"There's an idea," said Angelina.

Fred, George, and I nodded thoughtfully. Then George sat up, grinning.

"You know," he said slowly. "We still have some leftover Dungbombs from when we chucked a bunch in Percy's room."

Fred and I sat up too.

"You don't think—" began Fred.

"—that we should let off a Dungbomb?" I finished.

We nodded in unison and went up to the boys' dorm to get a Dungbomb, and an extra one just in case.

We arrived downstairs with a bunch of Dungbombs in hand. I held out my closed fist, held it there for a moment, then opened it. A Dungbomb fell out and exploded on the floor.

Kids started screaming and coughing. We burst out laughing and started running off in the opposite direction. Unfortunately, we didn't get far before we ran into—

"FILCH!"

We took off running again. He caught up with us eventually, grabbed us, and dragged us to his office.

Of course, he gave his regular speech about how he wished he could hang us by our thumbs in the dungeons and blah-blah-blah. But he was about to sentence us to a month's worth of detention when I felt something.

"Psst!"

George was nudging me.

"What?" I hissed. He pointed to a drawer marked "Confiscated and Highly Dangerous." A grin spread slowly across my face and I nudged Fred and pointed to it. It seemed to be saying "open me...open me..."

Fred grabbed another Dungbomb just as Filch looked up.

"What are you—"

BANG!

I seized the handle of the drawer and wrenched it open. George reached in and took out the first thing he could reach, which turned out to be—

"A ratty old bit of parchment?"

We were crouched behind a statue in the corridor. I took out my wand.

"Okay," I said. "I'll give this a try."

I laid my wand on the parchment and said the first words that came to my mind. "Open sesame."

The twins glared at me.

"Open sesame?" growled Fred. "_Open sesame?_"

"It was the first thing I could—"

I gasped. Something was happening. Words were appearing on the parchment.

**Mr. Moony greets you, and would like to point out that "open sesame" doesn't work, ever.**

"'Moony?'" said George, using air quotes. "What is this thing?"

**Mr. Wormtail agrees with Mr. Moony, and would like to suggest using a prank more original than Dungbombs.**

We gaped at it.

**Mr. Padfoot says that not getting caught by Filch is easy, and we just got caught with this thing because we let it happen.**

"What the—"

**Mr. Prongs bids you good day, and would like to say that opening this is simple, and you just don't know anything.**

It went blank. We stared at it for a moment, then burst out laughing.

"This—thing—is—awesome," I panted between laughs.

"Yeah," George agreed fervently. "But what—"

"—is it?" said Fred.

"I don't know," I admitted. "I think it must be _something_ more than just a parchment that insults people."

"Johanna's right," piped George. "This can't be all it does. I mean, it told us that we could 'open it' (he used air quotes again) and it wouldn't tell us that if there was nothing to open, would it?"

"True," said Fred. "But what would it do and how do we open it?"

We sat in silence, contemplating that question. Finally, I suggested that we try a password.

"That sounds about right," agreed George.

"But why don't we breeze on back to the common room right about now?" said Fred.

"Good idea," I said. We tromped (I think I made that word up) back to Gryffindor Tower, said the pass-word (levitate) to the Fat Lady, and burst through the portrait hole to our eagerly awaiting friends.

"GUESS WHAT WE FOUND!" screeched George.

"A voice amplifier?" said Lee, getting up off the floor (he had jumped so violently that he had fallen off the couch).

"A MAGICAL PARCHMENT!" howled Fred just as loudly as his twin.

"Excuse me?" asked Angelina.

Fred threw it at her head. She stared at it.

"This is blank."

"Try to open it! Come on, do it!" I said enthusiastic-ally.

"Alright then," she said skeptically. She pointed her wand at the parchment. "Abracadabra." Her eyes widened. She looked extremely comical. Then she shrieked—

"I DO NOT HAVE A BIG BUTT!"

We started laughing hysterically. I actually fell on the floor and rolled around.

"I DON'T!" hollered Angelina. That only made us laugh harder.

"Seriously, though," I hiccuped. "What's the password?"

"We could try something like 'I am causing trouble' or something like that," suggested George.

"Good idea." Fred pulled out his wand. "I am causing trouble."

**You're getting warmer.**

"I am up to mischief."

**Closer, closer.**

"I am up to no good."

**Oh! Careful! You're so warm you could burn yourself!**

"I am up to no good at _all?_"

**No, no, no. Keep going.**

"I am up to no good _ever?_"

I'll give you a hint.

**No, no! You can't give hints! They have to figure it out all by themselves!**

**Quiet, you.**

**Quiet, _you._**

**Sorry about that. Prongs is a moron. He wants you to run his underwear up the flagpole.**

**Ha! Hogwarts doesn't even have a flagpole! That's how dumb you are, _Moony._**

**Uh, Prongs? The kids are still here.**

**Oh right. Sorry. Continue.**

**Hint: How are you proving that we can trust you? What can you do that will ensure that we believe you?**

We looked at each other.

"That was weird," remarked George.

"Yes it was," I agreed, nodding my head.

Fred turned back to the parchment.,

"I...vow that I am up to no good?"

**Close! So close!**

"I, uh, make a solemn vow that I am up to no good?"

**Almost! Almost!**

"I swear that I am up to no good?"

**Just one more word! One more!**

We looked at each other again.

"I give up."

It was that night in bed that it hit me. I had been thinking about possible passwords for hours, and I was starting to fall asleep, and my password ideas started running together. I sat bolt upright. I remembered that it had said "one more word!" and if my theory was right, that word was...

I dashed up the stairs to the boys' dormitory. I covered my ears. Kenneth Towler sure could snore.

"Fred!" I hissed. "George! Lee! Wake up!"

"Huzzum," Fred mumbled. "Anna? Whas wrong?"

"Gimme the parchment," I whispered. Fred dug it out from under his bed. I pointed my wand at it, took a deep breath, and addressed the parchment—

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

One word appeared on it—

**Bingo.**

Then lines fanned out across the parchment, weaving intricate patterns, until it was complete.

"Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, purveyors of aids to magical mischief-makers, are proud to present the Marauder's Map!"

Our eyes lit up. We looked at each other. We would never get lost again!

"Look!" exclaimed Lee.

There were little dots, labeled with names. Our attention was drawn to four dots in particular. They were in the Gryffindor first year boys' dormitory, in a circle.** Johanna** **Potter**, **Lee Jordan**, **Fred Weasley** and **George Weasley**.

We looked at each other again. "Whoa," said George.

"Whoa is right," I replied. "Everyone in the castle, exactly where they are!"

"Let's find people!" Fred burst out excitedly. We laughed at him.

"That's the Slytherin common room, in the dungeons!" Lee pointed to it.

"There's Charli!" added George. "See? 'Charlotte DuCrall!'"

"You guys!" I said very loudly, not bothering to keep my voice down since Kenneth Towler was too deep a sleeper for his own good. "Do you know what this means?"

"Not really," said Lee.

"It means," I continued. "That we have an entire castle, for Godric's sake, right in front of our noses! We can do anything without getting caught! We'll be the best pranksters in the school!"

"With," contributed George. "The help of—"

"Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs," we concluded in unison. "Our mentors forever!

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Hey guys, RandomFandom here! I'm going to be doing these for the rest of this story because Johanna kept threatening you. Macaroni and cheese to reviewers!


	12. In Which Red Battles With Green

Chapter Twelve: In Which Green And Silver Battle With Red And Gold

Heeeeeeeeeeeeere's Johanna! With the update of awesomeness! And now, dear children, the chapter you've all been waiting for—QUIDDITCH!

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About a week had passed since the discovery of the Marauder's Map, and the air at Hogwarts was full of tension. Why? Quidditch of course!

"Just so you know," Charli said conversationally one afternoon. "Slytherin is _so_ gonna destroy you."

"No," argued Fred. "_We're_ gonna destroy _you_."

_"_No offense, but you Gryffindors don't have any strategy at all."

"No offense, but Slytherins are big jerks."

"Gryffindorks!"

"Slimerin!"

We often had ridiculous arguments like that. Sometimes one of us would say to her, "I wonder why you were put in Slytherin," and she would say, "I wonder why _you_ were put in Gryffindor."

Sometimes she does act like a Slytherin, though. Like how she constantly continues to make fun of us. And once, when this fifth year Slytherin bloke called her a M-U-D-B-L-O-O-D, she called him a "dalmation." Later she said that dalmations are pretty inbred, as are most purebloods. Only a Slytherin would think to use this background knowledge to insult people. And she gets this _look_. You know? That weird, smirky, slightly evil smile that only Slytherins can pull off? Yeah, well, she can do that. Wow, I just got wildly off topic.

So yeah, we were having this argument about why our respective houses ruled and were going to win this Quidditch match.

"You just zip around in circles on your brooms!"

"We do NOT!" I wailed.

"Do too!"

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"One thing that _is_ a fact," sighed Angelina, walking up to us. "Is that all of you are insane."

"Are NOT!" we all shrieked at the same time.

"Ha!" she cried triumphantly. "You _do_ always do that!"

"Do NOT!"

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"If anyone asks, we don't know you," I told Charli.

"Deal," she agreed.

The chilly air of late October bit our faces as we hurried down to the Quidditch pitch. We were decked out in red and gold. Well, Alicia, Angelina, Lee, Lane, the twins, and I were. Charli, however, had a silver coloured pencil stuck through the end of her short ponytail, and every item of clothing on her was green or silver. She even told us she had green underpants on. ("Oh, thanks, we _really_ needed to know that," said Lane.) The Slytherin gear was why we were insisting that we didn't know her.

Lane had insisted on bringing Fluffy along. Fluffy was her pet duck. Yes, you read right. My roommate had a pet duck. Fluffy was currently standing on Lane's shoulder, quacking loudly. We pretended we didn't know Lane either.

"There's Charlie!" Fred pointed out.

"I thought you didn't know me," said Charli.

"Not you Charli, our brother Charlie," George explained. "He's the best Seeker ever."

"Ah," said Charli. "Define 'Seeker.'"

"What are we, a wizarding dictionary?" said Lee. "Oh!" he said suddenly. "I have a surprise for you all!" He ran off. We stood there blinking.

"I wonder what the surprise is," said Alicia thoughtfully.

"Whatever it is, I hope it's good," said Angelina.

We arrived in the stands. Well, we Gryffindors did. Princess Green-Underwear, however, went over to the Slytherin half.

"When's Lee gonna come back?" asked Lane. Fluffy quacked loudly. "Yes, Fluffy, I think so too," she answered her duck solemnly. The rest of us exchanged looks.

"Sssh!" exclaimed Alicia. "The match is starting!"

Just as she said this, a very familiar voice rang out through the stands.

"Helloooooo, Hogwarts! Just 'cause first years can't play doesn't mean they can't do commentary! Lee Jordan here with the commentary for the first match of the season, great Gryffindor versus slimy Slytherin—"

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry, Professor McGonagall—anyway, _commentary._"

We looked at each other again. "Lee?" said Fred incredulously.

_"Commentator?" _howled George gleefully.

"The players are coming out!" I declared excitedly.

"And now, without further ado, the Gryffindor Quidditch team!" hollered Lee. "Brooks, Clarence, Captain Holliday, Oleson, Spinner, Weasley, and Wood! Slytherin team, Ammer, Brea, Fort, Graylin, Mack, Captain Quail, and Vengritt! And five—four— three—two—one—THEY'RE OFF!"

My eyes widened in anticipation. The game had begun!

"And that's Graylin, Herbert Graylin of Slytherin with the Quaffle, Graylin speeds up the pitch, a goal already?" continued Lee. "No, my friends! Intercepted by Captain Summer Holliday of Gryffindor! Holliday passes to Audrey Brooks, a new player this year—WHOA! Sneaked a goal past Slytherin Keeper Riley Brea! The score stands ten-nil to Gryffindor, Brooks sure looks promising, well not anymore. Very hard Bludger from Tom Fort of Slytherin. So now it's Mack, Barny Mack of Slytherin with the Quaffle, headed towards the Gryffindor goal, look out Wood!"

I bit my lip. He couldn't score, no...

"NO!" screeched Lee. "No, Slytherin score, bloody—!"

At that point, McGonagall of course proceeded to tug the megaphone out of his hand.

"Sorry, sorry Professor...okay, ten-ten, Mack with the Quaffle, passes to Luke Ammer, Ammer to Graylin, whoa, Quaffle snagged by Ryan Oleson of Gryffindor, Oleson to Holliday, Holliday to Brooks..."

And so the match went on. Many more goals were scored and saved and many more Bludgers were whacked. Finally, after hours of watching and waiting, watching and waiting...

"LOOK!" yelled Lee. "Jonathan Vengritt of Slytherin looks like he's spotted the Snitch! Charlie Weasley of Gryffindor follows close behind, come on Weasley, kick his—sorry, Professor McGonagall—Weasley's coming up closer, closer, the end is in sight, folks! Almost—almost—"

He yelled that Gryffindor had won and we all went and had a party. The end.

Yeah, right.

The Slytherin end went up in cheers. We were in shock. We had been so close. Now there wasn't any party to be thrown, no goodies to be swiped from the kitchens. Basically, losing sucks like one of those Muggle things that Mr. Weasley is always going on about. A...vincumm? Yeah, a vincumm is what it is.

Charli was a great sport and apologized for the loss, unlike some of the other Slytherins. One of them snarled that "we weren't so smug now, eh losers?"

"Shove off, dalmation," snarled Charli.

We moped and angsted for the rest of the evening. I think I even saw Wood sniffling a few times.

_Yes, _I thought as I climbed into bed. _Quidditch is a brutal game. If you lose, your self-confidence is squished. And if you win, you probably have to go to the hospital wing afterwards._

_ But I love it anyway._

I was asleep within a minute.

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*wearily* It's _vacuum,_ Johanna. Losing sucks like a _vacuum._ Free vacuums to reviewers! Wait, that doesn't sound right...oh whatever. Just review.


	13. In Which We Reuse An Old Idea

Chapter Thirteen: In Which First Year Ideas Come In Handy In Seventh Year Situations

Hiya, loves! Sorry I didn't go to that much trouble to describe Professor Pip. She _was _really cool, though. Much more so than my second year DADA teacher. Or my seventh year DADA teacher. Well, she was the most uncool person in the world. Well, enjoy!

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October blew, drizzled, rained, and stormed on. As you can probably tell, the weather was terrible. A lot of Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures classes were cancelled. This disappointed me, as Herbology was my second-favourite class and COMC was my third.

What was my first, you ask? Well I'm glad you asked. I'm glad you asked because, you see, I haven't fulfilled my duty as a writer. Or more specifically, I haven't fulfilled my duty as a writer talking about my years at Hogwarts. How, you ask? Well I'm glad you asked that, too. My duty as a writer talking about my years at Hogwarts is to describe my classes. Actually, scratch that, my duty is to describe one class in particular. What, you ask? Why, Defense Against the Dark Arts, of course! The teacher is different every single year!

Anyway, now's my chance to make up for it! Of course, DADA was my favourite subject, no trouble. Except for in my seventh year, when it was my least favourite, because of...but that's beside the point.

So yeah, the teacher's name was Professor Jennifer Pip. She was a young woman, maybe late twenties, long hair. Well, most of the time. She was a Metamorphmagus, like Charlie's friend Tonks. She was the coolest teacher I'd ever had until my fifth year. That teacher was DADA too. But no! I can't go off topic again! I'm talking about my first year!

ANYWAY, Professor Pip. She was ubercool. She was that kind of teacher that didn't seem like the teacher type, but was a great teacher all the same. So that's where I'll pick up the story from here. Walking into the classroom for another Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson.

"Hi, guys," announced Professor Pip, strolling into the classroom. Oh yeah, that was another cool thing about her, she called us "guys," like when I addressed my friends.

That lesson, we covered defensive spells, which was a lot of fun. I was good at it. I was partners with Fred, and I Disarmed him successfully every single time (something I wouldn't stop making fun of him about for the rest of the day).

"You know," said Angelina after the lesson. "This stuff might actually be useful someday. Unlike making pineapples tap-dance."

"I know," I responded. "That's why it's my favourite subject."

We traipsed into the Great Hall for dinner about fifteen minutes later. That was when I remembered something that had occurred to me that morning before Charms.

"Tomorrow night's Mischief Night!" I burst out.

The twins' faces split into identical grins. We did Mischief Night every October 30th at the Burrow. My father had taught me the tradition when I had just turned 1. Mum didn't exactly approve, but Dad certainly did. I pranked Sirius, like, _millions_ of times. There was one time when—but that, too, is beside the point.

We stayed up late that night trying to come up with a legitimate prank. We came up with "douse Snape with water balloons," (too unoriginal) "somehow make McGonagall confess that she is, in fact, passionately in love with Dumbledore," (detention for the rest of our lives) and "make Johanna declare her crush on Fred in front of the entire school," (both twins had their faces punched in two seconds after they suggested that).

"We _hab_ to cub ub wid _subdig,"_ said Fred through his heavy nosebleed.

"Yeah," agreed George, nursing his black eye. "We're the future owners of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes! We can't let Mischief Night go unnoticed!"

"Of course we aren't gonna—" I paused in the middle of my sentence.

"What?" questioned George. I turned my head to face the twins, a mischievous smile spreading slowly across my face.

"I just had the idea for the best prank _ever_," I answered happily.

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"You're crazy," said Charli flatly. "Completely crazy."

We had described our prank idea to Angelina, Lee, and Charli the day after I had come up with it. What was our idea, you ask? Well I'm glad you asked. Simply put a swamp in a corridor.

Sound familiar?

We came up with our first ever joke shop item, the portable swamp, in our first year. We knew how to make it, don't worry. Charli and I were pretty good in Potions, regardless of Snape's bullying. We whipped something up that mostly consisted of bile from several animals that we swiped from Snape's personal stores. Armadillo, cat, chicken, and a bit of alligator were the animals from which the bile was taken. We also used three mouse livers, two bottles of green and two bottles of yellow food colouring from the kitchens, and five and a half cups of some weird greeny-brown mud of some kind from the grounds. Charli said with a wry smile that most of her fellow Slytherins would think she and Angelina were terribly injured at the place where we found the mud substance (in case you don't get it, it was a reference to the Mudblood thing).

Anyway, we took it to our secret hideout in that passageway behind the mirror, mixed it all together, boiled it for five minutes, and got our first portable swamp. We were elated that we had made a joke shop product already. We wrote down the ingredients and stored them.

"It's 7:00!" exclaimed George suddenly. "We have to take it and pour it out somewhere!"

We sneaked down to the corridor leading to the Entrance Hall with the help of good ol' Moony, Worm-tail, Padfoot, and Prongs. We hid behind a statue.

"The coast is clear," I mouthed. The gang nodded and Fred, George and I tiptoed out to the midle of the hallway. We looked from side to side just to make extra-sure, and slowly, Fred overturned the box.

BANG!

We dashed back behind the statue as students, looking anywhere but down at the ground, sprinted in to see what was going on.

"AAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRGH!"

Several kids slipped and fell, landing SPLAT on their bums in the green sludge. They shrieked and writhed, trying to get up, but only succeeded in getting more goo all over themselves. We howled with laughter.

About an hour later, Professor Dumbledore showed up and started looking around, getting his long, flowing blue robes very dirty in the process. At last he found us crouching behind the statue. We braced ourselves for one of those long lectures, talking about how we were more mature than this and blah-de-blah-de-blah, ending with detention for the rest of the school year.

Instead, Dumbledore smiled. "You know, Mischief Night never gets recognized anymore," he told us, and left without another word.

We looked at each other and grinned to beat the band.

Six Years Later:

_ "I still can't believe Umbridge is Headmistress," I said dully._

_ "I know," agreed Fred. "It's completely unfair."_

_ "Well, is there anything we can do about it?" George piped up. "I mean, the DA's down the drain."_

_ "We could do something like the fireworks again," suggested Fred._

_ "Yeah..." I said, trailing off. _

_ "Oh! The portable swamp!" yelled George._

_ "Well, will that be enough?" Fred wondered aloud._

_ The three of us were silent for about a minute. Then I sat straight up._

_ "No," I said in jubilation. "It won't be enough." I turned to my best friends, a huge smile crossing my face. "Not without our broomsticks and a good Summoning Spell."_

_ They sat straight up too. "You mean...!" George trailed off, but we knew what he was going to say._

_ I nodded. "I mean, come on," I said. "We've always wanted to do it, and if we don't, someone else will." I stood up and walked over to the window. "I mean," I said, my breath fogging the glass. "Don't we want to beat them to it?" I smiled even wider, turning back around to face them again._

_ "Don't we want to fly?_

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Well, was the flash-forward okay? It may have seemed a little corny...let me know in a review! No, Siriusly, I want constructive criticism, this is my first fic here! Pile 'em on! Just keep in mind that I will roast marshmallows on flames. Ta ta!


	14. In Which We Have The Perfect Christmas

Chapter Fourteen: In Which We Have The Perfect Christmas

Well here it is, folks, the obligatory Christmas chapter. Hope you like.

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_Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock_

_ Jingle bells swing and jingle bells ring_

_ Snowin' and blowin' up bushels of fun_

_ Now the jingle hop has begun_

_ Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock_

_ Jingle bells chime in jingle bell time_

_ Dancin' and prancin' in Jingle Bell Square_

_ In the frosty air_

_ What a bright time, it's the right time_

_ To rock the night away_

_ Jingle bell time, it's a swell time_

_ To go ridin' in a one horse sleigh_

_ Giddy up, jingle horse, pick up your feet_

_ Jingle around the clock_

_ A-mix and a-mingle in the jinglin' feet_

_ That's the jingle bell rock!_

That was our hollered refrain in our horrible singing voices as we stomped across the snowy grounds to Herbology. It was Thursday, December 13th. I was 12 years, 3 months, 1 day, 17 hours, and 5 minutes old (I haven't done that since Chapter Eight).

"We're lucky," Lane informed us as we entered Greenhouse One.

"Why?" asked Alicia, screwing up her face in confusion.

"Because it's _Thursday _the 13th. We missed having Friday the 13th by _one day_," said Lane as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Fred, George and I rolled our eyes at each was very super-stitious. We were very not superstitious.

After Herbology, we went inside, where we blew into our mittens as we walked down the corridor to DADA.

After our very enjoyable lesson, we went to dinner. Well, we only made it down three flights of stairs and half a corridor before Angelina noticed the—

"MISTLETOE!"

Our heads snapped up. My stomach did that thing. You know, the thing Harry's stomach used to do when he saw Cho Chang. Oh, you know what I mean. Anyway, my stomach did that thing because I was standing directly underneath the aforementioned mistle-toe.

And so was Fred.

Our eyes widened. The others whooped with laughter.

"NO WAY!" we screeched in unison.

"Yes way!" sang Angelina. "C'mon, it's the rule!"

"Yeah!" said George. "You guys _have _to kiss!"

"We are not kissing! No kissing here!" said Fred vehemently.

"Ki-iss! Ki-iss!" George and Angelina started up a chant. Some others walking around took it up too.

"FINE!" we yelled, again in unison.

We turned to face each other. Both our faces flamed in embarrassment. We took two shaky steps forward. Then, very slowly, we started to lean in. We leaned in as slowly as possible. The signal that we could lean in no more was when our noses brushed together. Finally, we couldn't put it off another second. We kissed.

An explosion of cheering, catcalling, and wolf-whistling (the last two mostly from George, Angelina, Lee, and Charli, the latter of which had just gotten there) went up around us. Our lips were barely touching at first, but then we unconsciously pressed harder. The kiss lasted exactly twelve seconds according to a fourth year Ravenclaw's watch.

We stomped back over to our friends, even redder than before. "Happy?" I inquired.

Charli got her Slytherin Look. "Very," she replied.

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That night in the dorm, I couldn't sleep. Somehow, Angelina knew this. "Thinkin' 'bout the kiss?" she asked, grinning wickedly.

"No," I shot back.

"You know what I think?"

"What?"

"I think you _love_ him."

I sat bolt upright. "You cannot be serious."

"I am."

"How can you possibly think I love him?"

She grinned wider. "I think you were enjoying yourself under that mistletoe."

"I was not! Well, maybe a _little_, but that doesn't mean I love him!"

She grinned even wider. "Methinks she doth protest too much_._"

"Oh, shut up."

"No, _you _shut up."

We continued in this vein until we argued ourselves to sleep. I dreamed about mistletoe coating the entire ceiling and even the sky, but somehow, Fred and I were the only ones standing under it. Our friends laughed and urged us to kiss, again and again and again and again and again and again until our lips were chapped. I was about to collapse from the pain and humiliation when I woke up and remembered that the sky bore no mistletoe and our friends would never force us to kiss ourselves to death. Still, the dream unsettled me.

The next week passed with us wishing hard that it would pass quicker. Fred and I, in retaliation for the mistletoe, repeatedly shoved our friends under mistletoe with random people. We got Angelina with some Slytherin third year who seemed a little too enthusiastic about kissing her and Lee with Piper Wright, a Ravenclaw, who went a little wacko afterwards, screaming about how sick we all were. We even got Charli once. I accidentally shoved her under the mistletoe with a girl (now, that was a weird afternoon). She acted odd all day after that. But that's beside the point.

Christmas Eve finally arrived. The others went to bed before us (me and the twins). We just sat there for a little while. "Tomorrow is Christmas," said Fred, stating the obvious like a pro as usual.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," George and I told him in perfect unison, also as usual.

"You know, this year's Christmas has to be perfect," I told the twins.

"Why, Johanna?"

"Because it's our first at Hogwarts." We were silent for a while longer. We were silent a lot, but only when it was just the three of us. That was why everyone thought we never shut up. Because we didn't, not in the company of anyone else. We preferred being loud. But we liked being quiet when it was just the three of us, because we had been best friends for practically our whole lives and we could just sit and _be friends_ around each other. I know, I know, it sounds really gushy, but it's true.

Finally, George spoke up. "How much more perfect could it get, really?"

We just smiled at him in response.

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The sun was just beginning to creep through the dormitory windows when I woke up. I was the first to wake up. I looked over to the foot of my bed. "PRESENTS!" I hollered. Suddenly, though I have no idea how, I was not the only one awake.

Of course, from Mrs. Weasley, I got a mince pie and a royal blue sweater. From the twins, I got a huge container of vanilla bean ice cream (I felt the need to dance around the room with it). From Angelina and Lee, I got a T-shirt that said, "If you can read this, you're in my way (I'm not the only one who got a T-shirt. I got Charli one with a picture of a dalmation)." From the aforementioned Slytherin, I got a card with a haiku about bananas and a book. Oh yes, and the book had a note on it that said, "Look at the title. I practically see you throwing it out." When I obliged, I saw that it was, "Spells and Potions with Humourous Results." And from Percy, I got a note that had the incantation for the Silencing Charm and underneath it, it said, "Use this often." Once I got that he meant on myself, I got seriously annoyed. After all, I had given him something awesome: the rules for The Shut Up Percy Game (Step 1: Shut up. Step 2: Keep doing it. Step 3: The end)!

The others (the twins, Percy, and Charlie) got sweaters too. The twins were only slightly ticked off that they had letter sweaters ("We know our names!" "Yeah, you're Gred and Forge!") That exchange made me insist on calling them Gred and Forge all morning. Charli, Angelina, and Lee joined in with enthusiasm. As usual, we forced Percy to put on his sweater and wear it around all day.

So, my point with this chapter is this: yeah, there may be ups and downs. There may be morbidly embarrassing mistletoe moments. There may be notes that tell you to use a Silencing Charm on yourself. But there will always be waking up to find a huge pile of presents at your feet. There will always be following the twins around calling them Gred and Forge.

Basically, even though it had its ups and downs, it really was the perfect Christmas.

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Reviews are nourishment. If you don't review, you're starving me.


	15. In Which Charli Gets A Great Idea

Chapter Fifteen: In Which Charli Gets A Great Idea

Hey, peoples. You're in for a treat this chapter; it's a good one. RandomFandom owns no characters or locations. Except for me and Charli. We are both quite annoyed about that. Enjoy!

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You would think that the months until school was over would fly past for the purposes of this story. You would think that we would be packing to board the Hogwarts Express by now. But if you thought that, you were very, very, _very_ much mistaken, my friend. For I will do just the opposite, and drag out the months until we go home for the purposes of this story. Why, you ask? Well I'm glad you asked. Look at the chapter title. As you can tell, in this chapter, Charli gets a great idea. What is that great idea? Well I'm glad you asked that too. It all started a few days into the year 1990...

"I'm bored," stated Lee flatly.

Charli had just forced us to watch some American Muggle musical that she liked. She knew the musical so well that she could do a charm to replay it from memory. The musical turned out to be pretty good. It was about these two gangs in a place called New York that keep trying to kill each other. Then there's this dance. At that dance, the leader of one gang and the other leader's little sister randomly fall in love. As I said, it's better than it sounds, and there were some extremely catchy songs. One of those songs made us crack up laughing. It was about one of those Muggle Auror things. The gang was making stuff up about their home life, saying they had "social diseases" and stuff. I just got off topic again.

Anyway, Lee said he was bored. "Well, we could watch West Side Story again," suggested Charli.

"NO," we all declared in unison. We didn't want to have to pretend not to cry at the end again.

"Well, what should we do?" inquired Angelina.

"We could prank someone," said Charli.

"YEAH!"

We decided to prank the Ravenclaws for a change. Besides, if we pranked the Slytherins again with Charli around, we would get murdered. For the prank itself, we went with a classic—a good, old-fashioned whoopee cushion. Our goal was to make the smarty-pants Ravenclaws (no offense, any Ravenclaws reading this) look like big idiots. For the attack time, we went for lunch on Saturday.

We placed a charm on the whoopee cushion to make it blend in with the bench. We then put it on the seat and waited. One thing you need to know about us is that most of the time, we're horribly impatient. But we can wait super-patiently when it has to do with a prank. Finally, we saw a third year boy with chestnut hair strolling casually over to the seat. He stepped over the bench and sat down.

_PTHPTHPTHPTHPTHPTHPTHTPTH!_

All the kids in the Great Hall burst out laughing. We pulled off the look on their faces—confused and amused—so flawlessly that it had to be fake.

We were surprised at their reaction. We had expected anger, maybe a few tears. But instead, we got this— "You _will_ pay for this! Mark my words!"

We didn't take him seriously. But the next day, as we were walking down the corridor, a huge plastic spider dropped down in front of Alicia's face. She screamed like a banshee on fire, dropped her bag, and raced off down the corridor. We spotted a knot of snickering Ravenclaws, including Piper Wright, across from us.

It was just Ravenclaw and Gryffindor to begin with. But then the other Houses figured out what was going on and wanted to join in the fun. Pretty soon it was everywhere. Buckets of ice water balanced on slightly-opened doors. Passwords were acquired so that Silly String was stretched all around dorms. Somebody got the clever idea for a night watch, but that turned into material for a double prank. Silly String around dorms _and _night guards tied up with Spellotape stretched over their mouths.

Pretty soon, the teachers found us out and the prank war came to an end, right? WRONG! We got a feeling the teachers knew, but pretended they didn't. We think it was because they secretly enjoyed it. It was an awesome entertainment source right there in front of them. Front-row seats!

It was official.

The Great Prank War of Hogwarts had begun.

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So...you like? Think it was too short (well, I do)? Too not-funny? Too...well, anything really? Let me know in the review!


	16. In Which We Are Inspired

Chapter Sixteen: In Which We Are Inspired

So yeah, RandomFandom woke up this morning and discovered she owned Harry Potter. Everyone who died in the books is now alive.

Dead people: YAAAAAY!

Just kidding, JK Rowling still owns the books.

Dead people: Awwwww...

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It just got bigger and bigger from that point on. We even got the idea to send spies to other Houses. We also had the brilliance to check and make sure that nobody else was spying. Hufflepuff had an advantage there. They had a Metamorphmagus hanging around.

A lot of food got spiked too. We spiked it with a powder we made (well, Charli made it and we stole it from her) that gave the recipient severe constipation (U-No-Poo, anyone?).

One day, we were sitting at breakfast and Lane grabbed a piece of bacon. It was only after she had taken a huge bite that she noticed the piece of paper stuck to the other side. She spat it out and read: "Gryffindor's red, Ravenclaw's blue, Slytherin's green and so are you!" She barely had time to register before she started throwing up all over the table. All around us people were throwing up too.

We ventured over to the Hufflepuff table. "Nice one," I said casually.

"Thanks," grinned a round-faced boy with reddish-brown hair whose name was Owen McCoy-Young. "My brother Connor thought of it."

"We're going to use that idea," said Fred.

"How will that work?" Verity White piped up. "None of us is going to fall for it twice."

"Not use it here," said George. We left the extremely confused Hufflepuffs back at their table.

A few days later, the Slytherins got back at them by spiking _their _food so their noses started gushing blood. We thought that was hilarious.

And that, my friends, was the unofficial birth of the Skiving Snackbox.

Not only did the pranks get bigger, they got meaner too. There was even this one time when I started writing in class, and I felt this piercing pain on my left hand (I'm left-handed) and I looked down and saw this random cut on my hand. I kept writing, and it turned out that the quill was making me write in my own blood. As you can probably tell, I had a lot of flashbacks to my first year in my seventh year.

We were all pretty ticked off about the quill thing, though not so ticked off that we formed a resistance group. Of course, we retaliated. We managed to break into all the Slytherins' bags (including Charli's) and trade out their ink with vanishing ink. That got them into a lot of homework trouble.

Some older students even got personal with their pranks. Charlie and some of his mates secretly filmed (they knew a charm that was like a wizard video camera) a couple of Raven-claw fourth years snogging in a deserted classroom. That became the popular prank until some Ravenclaws had the brilliant idea of grabbing the video camera, performing Charlie's charm on it, putting it in a popular snogging location, and leaving. But then when they played the film for all the students to see, they apparently didn't watch the tape first. Instead of making out, they broke up rather nastily. Needless to say, those poor kids (a Slytherin and a Gryffindor, both sixth years, who we soon found out were called Tessa and Mickey) practically melted with embarrassment.

ANYWAY. On a much less awkward note, Charli refused to speak to us until Slytherin pranked Gryffindor back for the vanishing-ink thing. After they had done that, she was all sunshine, daisies, and butter mellow (turn this stupid fat rat yellow!). That girl is inscrutable.

A few weeks after the snogging-video tape incident was April Fool's. That was our favorite holiday of all time (Mischief Night was a close second). Not only was it April Fool's, it was the birthday of a very special two people!

It is my tradition to wake them up with a prank. So I put Spellotape over their eyes and when they woke up they started shrieking like two-year-old girls. We laughed at them a lot before I yanked the tape off and hollered "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" in George's ear and ran off. They, as usual, chased me. But I, like my brother, was much faster than I looked.

There was lots of pranking that day. I mean, come on, it was April Fool's! We kept our eyes peeled for possible booby traps. We escaped every trap they set up, SO THERE!

Unfortunately, none of us were prepared for what happened at the end-of-term feast.

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Ooh, cliffie! Aren't I evil? But you'll have to wait for the update like a good girl/boy/amoeba to find out what happens.


	17. In Which We Get Outsmarted By Hufflepuff

Chapter Seventeen: In Which We Get Outsmarted By Hufflepuffs

So yeah, here's the update. You've probably been waiting on the edge of your seat for this chapter. This is the last non-epilogue chapter in the first epic installment of the epic story of my epic life. Enjoy this epic chapter! Also RandomFandom still doesn't own HP. Also EPIC.

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Well, there we were, sitting, eating, celebrating the end of the year, but also waiting. Waiting for the announcement of the winner.

Professor Dumbledore stood up. "Ah, the end of another year," he said. "But one thing is still as yet undetermined. The other members of the staff and I know about your prank war. But you have not decided on a winner."

We leaned forward in our seats. We had expected Gryffindor win. We really had. So that's why we were so surprised when he said—

"Hufflepuff!"

"WHAT?!" shrieked the other three Houses. The only big prank of Hufflepuff's was the spiked bacon!

At least, we thought it was, until Dumbledore walked in.

I know what you're thinking. We were extremely confused, too. Dumbledore, however, smiled serenely and said, "May I ask why my doppelganger is standing up there instead of myself?"

Our heads swiveled around to the staff table. The other Dumbledore was staring in horror at the doorway, as were the Hufflepuffs. Then he cried, "THIS WASN'T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN!" He began to change. He became—

"TONKS?!"

For there Tonks was, standing there in overlarge robes.

"So...that wasn't Dumbledore? That was a Hufflepuff pretending to be Dumbledore, so everyone would think Hufflepuff won?" called a Ravenclaw. The Hufflepuffs nodded.

We all sat in stunned silence for a few minutes. Then I stood up. Everyone stared at me. I raised my hands and slowly began to clap. A bunch of others followed my example and soon, all the other Houses were applauding the surprising brains of Hufflepuff.

I leapt up on Gryffindor table. "I am proud to declare Hufflepuff the winner of the Great Prank War of Hogwarts!" My outburst was met by even wilder applause from the crowd.

"You know," Dumbledore told us in the aftermath. "This is the _Second _Great Prank War of Hogwarts."

"What?" said Lee. "When was the first one? Who started it?"

Dumbledore smiled mysteriously. "I think you have become acquainted with them already. They are known as Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs.

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Nice ending there, don't ya think? Tell me in a review!


	18. Epilogue: In Which I Am Very Nice

Epilogue: In Which I Am Very Nice

So yeah, this is the end. RandomFandom wants to thank everyone who followed, favorited, and especially reviewed this story. *applause* You're good people. RandomFandom will have to check you out sometime.

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And so my first year at Hogwarts came to an end. I thought it was reasonably enjoyable, didn't you? I made three new friends, discovered a secret map, and started a prank war. I never thought my life would be like this.

That wasn't my most eventful year by a long shot. My second and seventh years steal those titles. But it was my first year, and that counts for something.

Because I'm so nice, I'll give you a sneak peek of the second story, free of charge. Granted, it won't be the whole story, but hey, it's something. You'll have to read it to find out what happens. Enjoy!

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I paused, turned around, and peered into the mirror. I looked the same as I ever had. Untidy dark-red hair (the only difference was that it was short). Round hazel eyes with yellow flecks. One hundred and six freckles (I had counted them once for some reason) splotched all over a long, thin face. Tiny little nose. Stick-outy ears. Bony arms and legs. Determinedly flat chest (oh come on, I was thir-freaking-teen!). Royal blue Converse trainers, untied as always. Thin red lightning-bolt scar at the base of my neck (which everyone seemed to think was my defining feature).

And yet everyone was treating me as if I was a different person. I knew why, I just wondered why.

Why should I be different just because I'm different?

I turned and walked away without looking back.

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Wonder what's going on? Check out Johanna Potter and the Whole of the Moon, coming soon to Harry Potter Fan Fiction!

Until then, mischief managed.

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Siriusly, check out Johanna Potter and the Whole of the Moon! I presume I'll have it up really, really soon! I gave you a nice teaser there, if I do say so myself! Again, I would like to thank, the good people who followed, favorited, reviewed, or just plain read this story. Especially my best friend Silverfern-Leader Of Moonclan! You're the best! Until next time, then!


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